


Short One-Shots

by its_me_smol_steve



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Also Peter is pretty broken, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Arguments, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Awesome Peggy Carter, BAMF Peggy Carter, Bad Days, Birthdays, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Boys In Love, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Christmas, Coming Out, Crying, Death Through a Child’s Eyes, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fights, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Goodbyes, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I love you 3000, Ice Cream Parlors, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jarvis is helping, Karens, Karens will be Karens, Kind of a lot of angst, M/M, Marriage, Men Crying, Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Natasha Romanov gets a hug, Natasha wants her family to be a family again, Nightmares, Nordstrom Rack, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, POV Morgan, Permanent Angst, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Has Nightmares, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a nerd, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Presents, Retelling of Traumatic Events, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sad, Sad and Happy, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Same-Sex Marriage, Sickfic, So is Bucky, Some angst, Stabbing, Steve Rogers Gets a Hug, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve has no concern for his personal wellbeing, Tears, Thor the Officiant, Tony Angst, Tony’s broken, Trans Peter Parker, Trans Steve Rogers, Umbrella, Unhappy Ending, Wedding Fluff, and everyone knows it, angst then fluff, but happy endings, but like it’s me we’re talking about are you really surprised, but theyre learning, but this time Tony’s the one helping, but we love them, coming home, continuation of a fic, for togina, happy endings, is this enough tags yet, not explicitly stated, sappy idiots, strawberry milkshakes, talking things through, that is not a euphemism, they’re all a little broken
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2020-06-03 02:38:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 22,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19454605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_me_smol_steve/pseuds/its_me_smol_steve
Summary: Like the title says; short one-shots written from prompts that catch my attention. Open to suggestions so if there’s something you’d like to see, drop a comment!!Chapter 19 new as of 05/09/20!!





	1. Mending Bridges

**Author's Note:**

> Natasha finally takes matters into her own hands when Bucky moves into the Tower and Tony refuses to have anything to do with him.
> 
> So I know this is like the 3rd thing in as many days that I’ve posted but.... in my defense I’m at a Mental Low rn and posting things brings it up. That being said, this is 700-something words written in literally 30 minutes just now, so this could be absolutely horrible. But I’m happy with it, so. *shrug*
> 
> ANYWAYS. Like I said this is REALLY short BUT I ended it in a way I can do a Chapter 2 if y’all want! It’ll probably be a lot more talking, this time between Bucky and Tony, and probably some actual Stucky. Let me know if that sounds like something you guys would like!

“I know why you’re here,” Tony said without turning around once the whisper of the sliding glass doors signified they were closed.

“Okay,” Natasha said evenly. “So you’ll listen to me?”

“I might. Depends on what you have to say.”

She chuckled and walked forward, her heels echoing on the smooth concrete. “He’s not who you think he is, Tony.”

“Yeah, well.” He cursed when he accidentally burned himself, waving his finger around in the air before sticking it in his mouth. He waved his other hand to signal her to continue.

“I know you don’t like him,” she said, passing him burn ointment from the first aid kit Dum-E brought over. She patted the robot on the arm and turned back to Tony. “But he’s changed, even since he’s been here. He’s trying to be better, and if I’m being honest, you two have a lot in common.”

“Funny,” Tony murmured. “I don’t remember killing his parents.”

“Don’t do that,” she warned, voice low. “I could bring up Wanda’s parents. I’m trying not to. Don’t give me a reason.”

“Okay. So we’ve got a lot in common.”

“Did you know on Bucky’s last night before he shipped out, he took Steve and their dates to the science fair? _Bucky_ did. He loved dancing with all the girls, but what he loved more was science. He and your dad got along really well.”

“Until-” he started, then sighed and motioned for her to continue again.

“Even now, here in the Tower, he’s adapted fastest out of any of us. He and Jarvis talk like they’re friends. He can use any appliance in the kitchen, even the coffeemaker I refuse to touch.” She smiled a bit at the last part, then stepped forward. “Look. If not for him, or for yourself, then for Steve.”

“Steve’s a big boy,” Tony waved her off. “He’s fine on his own.”

“You sure about that?” She asked softly. “I’m sure you recognize the plane crash, and Steve’s conversation with Peggy, for what it really was.” She shook her head, looking down at her hands. “Bucky fell, and Steve’s heart followed. The Valkyrie was his suicide note.”

“And you say I’m dramatic,” Tony joked, but his voice shook just enough for Natasha to know she was getting through.

“Cause you are,” she teased, then sobered again. “Take a look at this. Jarvis, pull up the feed from camera 24C.”

“Yes, Miss Romanoff,” intoned the British voice in the ceiling, and the far wall flickered with light. Soon they could see Steve and Bucky in the kitchen.

“Is there audio, Jarvis?” the redhead asked.

“I’m afraid not, Miss Romanoff.”

She tsked, then motioned for Tony to watch the screen anyways.

Bucky was at the stove, stirring sauce in a pan, and Steve was leaned against the counter next to him, smiling broadly at the brunet. Bucky said something, causing Steve to laugh and nudge Bucky’s arm. Bucky grinned and swiped his metal finger through the sauce before popping it in his mouth. Steve laughed again before shoving him harder this time, dislodging him from his place by the stove. Bucky looked up enough for the camera to catch his grin, then he shoved himself back at Steve, who was cackling loud enough Tony was sure he could hear it, even without the audio.

“That’s not the Cap we know,” he said quietly.

“That’s the Steve only Bucky knows,” Natasha returned. “But I’d like to get to know that Steve. Wouldn’t you?”

“You’re not asking me to be friends with him,” Tony checked.

“No,” Natasha shrugged. “Though being friends could have the added benefit of him letting you work on his arm. I heard he has some ideas for improvement.” She could practically see Tony’s eyes gleam at the thought.

He nodded decisively. “Then I’ll try.”

Natasha smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek before moving away. “That’s all I ask,” she said, heels clicking until the soft whoosh of the doors closing once more shut her out.

Tony thoughtfully tapped his palm with a wrench, turning back to the video feed. He might have mixed feelings about one of the men, but the other man was his captain. And he’s learned to trust his captain’s instincts, even if he does think they’re somewhat skewed this time. He smiled and placed the wrench on the table. “J, call Barnes down here for me.”

* * *

Up in her own room, Natasha smiled, watching her own version of the feed. “Thanks, J,” She murmured. “Couldn’t’ve done it without you.”

“How long do you think it will take Mr. Stark to realize that camera is not one of his?”

She laughed hard enough she fell off the bed.


	2. Light Shines Through the Cracks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter never realized how human-like the Avengers were until his mentor and his idol admitted he was afraid of the dark. Maybe, just maybe, it’s possible for him to be scared and still be a hero, too.

“I’m not doing that,” Clint said firmly. “Nope. Sorry. Can’t make me.”

”What’s the matter?” Steve asked, a smile playing on his face.

”I’m not watching a horror movie.” He crossed his arms and shook his head at the TV. “I’m not doing it.”

”Why not?” Peter asked from his position on the couch.

”I don’t like horror movies,” the archer admitted. “They scare me.”

Natasha gave him a look. “You know what scares me? Dogs.”

The archer looked horrified. “You don’t like Lucky?”

She waved him off, “Lucky’s hardly a dog. I like Lucky. But other dogs? I can’t handle those.”

Steve sat down on the couch opposite Peter and pulled one leg up, hugging it close to his chest, appearing nonchalant. “I don’t like the cold. It reminds me too much of the Valkyrie.” He shrugged, picking at the seam of his pants, and Peter nodded. “What’re you scared of, Peter?”

He froze. _Everything_ , he wanted to say. _Small spaces. The dark. Planes._ Instead, he shrugged. “I dunno. I dunno that I really have any fears like that, y’know?”

Steve nodded, but Natasha raised a brow. He could tell she was about to speak when Tony and Bruce walked in. “Ah, perfect timing, boys. You’ve entered the Circle of Truth. One thing you’re unreasonably scared of, then we’ll pick a movie.”

Bruce blinked at her a couple times. She just smiled. “Crowds,” he finally said. “I don’t like large crowds, large groups of people all standing around and talking and, especially, blocking the exits. Makes me feel trapped.”

Tony shrugged in response to Natasha’s raised brow at him. “The dark.” He plopped onto the sofa next to Steve and continued, “I’m afraid of the dark. ‘S part of the reason I still have this.” He tapped the miniature arc reactor in his chest. “It’s like a built-in nightlight.”

Peter stilled, but his mind was going ninety miles an hour. _Maybe,_ he thought. _Maybe if Tony can be scared, and still be a hero, I can, too._

_No,_ his brain hissed at him. _It’s different. He’s Tony Stark, not a nobody from Queens. Of course nobody’s gonna ridicule him._

_There’s only one way to find out,_ he told the little voice, and quietly spoke. “Small spaces.” He looked up to see everyone looking at him, and he quickly ducked his head again. “I get claustrophobic. I don’t like things pressing against my chest or back. I...” He shook his head, “This sounds so stupid.” He let out a wet-sounding laugh and wondered at what point he had begun to cry. “Even seatbelts in cars. I have to remind myself that I’m not stuck under that building anymore.”

”Building?” Natasha asked softly. “I don’t think we know this story.”

”It was during Homecoming,” he said. “My date’s dad was the Vulture. I confronted him in the basement of a building, and like I normally do, I taunted him.” A sniff and a rough wipe at his face, then back into the story. “His wings work kinda like Redwing. They’re able to be remote controlled. I didn’t know that at first, but then he sent the wings after me. I easily dodged them and teased him again, but then he told me he wasn’t aiming for me. He flew out and by the time I realized that he’d hit all the support beams, the building had already landed on me.” He hugged his legs to his chest, “And I didn’t have the suit I do now. I couldn’t call anyone. I had a mask, a hoodie and my webshooters. That was it. Obviously I eventually got out, but, well...” he shrugged, “the mental damage was done. And now I hate enclosed spaces. I hate seatbelts and elevators. And I hate that I’m this way.” One final sniff and rough face rub, and he sat back, refusing to look up at them.

”You know,” Tony started carefully, and Peter could hear him moving closer. “There’s a reason we tell each other these things, Pete. So we can help each other work through them, and so we won’t put each other in potentially triggering situations. I know how hard that was—we all know how hard that was—and we’d like to help you feel better, if we can. But we don’t want to trigger you, so we need your help.”

Peter sniffed once more and barely looked up, focusing on Tony. “Did you hear how I didn’t say hugs set me off?” He gave the genius a self-deprecating smile before shrugging. “I maybe wouldn’t mind one now.”

The billionaire chuckled softly before scooting over until they were hip-to-hip. “Whatever you want, kid, and only what you want, you hear me? The rest of us have had years to work on our shit. You’re seventeen. You get a free pass,” he joked good-naturedly. “You’ll find people to surround yourself with who will help. You’ll find coping mechanisms. And time will help. Until then, though, you can always come to us, and we’ll never think any less of you for it. Deal?”

”Deal,” Peter murmured, leaning in closer to Tony.

”Now that that’s settled,” Clint broke in, and Peter could feel the laugh Tony tried to hold back. “What movie? Cause I’m still not doing horror.”


	3. Mending Bridges - Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Mending Bridges! As promised, it has lots of Bucky and Tony talking, and even some Stucky! A very small amount of Stucky, but it's there!

"Shut up," the blond murmured, grinning at the brunet.

"Make me," he teased back, dancing just out of reach.

Steve stopped and stared at him for a second, then smiled, shook his head, and turned away. Bucky stilled. "What?"

"Nothing," Steve said. "Just glad you're here. Happy and safe."

Bucky's smile grew the longer he looked at Steve. "Wow, that was sappy."

"Shut up."

"Make me," he repeated, the same grin on his face.

"I'm terribly sorry to bother, gentlemen," Jarvis interrupted. "Mr. Stark is asking for you in the lab, Sergeant Barnes."

Bucky cocked his head at the ceiling. "Is he, now? Never thought I'd see the day." He shrugged. "Alright. I'll be down there in five."

"Thank you, Sergeant."

"My pleasure, J." He turned back to Steve and shrugged again. "Well."

"Well," Steve agreed. "Be careful."

"Steve," Bucky said, sighed, and stopped, facing the blond completely. "You need to stop worrying about me. Especially in the Tower. The worst enemy I have in here is myself, and we both know it. It'll be fine, okay?"

"You know why I worry, Buck, I can't help it." He stepped forward and reached for the brunet, who copied the motion.

"I know. But I'll be okay," he whispered. "Trust me?"

"Always," Steve said, just as quietly. He placed a small kiss on Bucky's cheek, then pushed him back slightly. "Go on. I'll see you later."

"Yep," Bucky agreed. "Love you."

The soft smile followed him all the way to the elevator. "I love you, too."

* * *

"Hey," Tony said when Bucky knocked on the open door. "C'mon in. I'm finishing up, find a seat somewhere you won't break things."

"Hey," Bucky copied. "Should I feel like I've been called into the principal's office?"

"Not unless-" Tony paused, then shook his head. "Nah. Just wanted to talk some things through."

Bucky hummed, then moved closer. "What're you working on?"

"Depends on what you'll understand."

Bucky chuckled, "Try me."

The billionaire sighed, then rubbed at his forehead with his closed fist. "Okay. You see that piece right there?" He wiggled a small piece of metal that, to Bucky, looked like it shouldn't wiggle. "This keeps coming loose on landings. It digs into my shin and is generally really uncomfortable, if not actually painful." He pulled his pant leg up enough to reveal a healing gash from the metal.

"Ouch," Bucky commented. "So what're you trying to do to fix it?"

Tony pointed a screwdriver at him. "That's the million-dollar question." He looked at the tool in his hand, then shook his head and put it down. "I don't need that one."

Bucky laughed before grabbing a pair of pliers and handing them over. "Why not just pull it out and replace it? Obviously there's something wrong with either that piece, or the pieces it attaches to, right?"

Tony narrowed his eyes at the other brunet. "Where have you been my whole life, and why was it not in this lab for this moment?" He absentmindedly shook the pliers at Bucky. "Good idea, but these are the wrong tools. I don't know if I even have the right ones. I don't have them with me, in any case." He stopped and narrowed his eyes at Bucky's left hand. "What's the grip strength on that thing?"

Bucky shrugged, "It's never been tested, but I've ripped a car door off it's hinges before."

"Yeah, I remember seeing that in the news. This might work. Come here, you pull it out with your hand. Pliers aren't gonna cut it this time." Bucky chuckled, but moved forward all the same, grabbing the component and pulling it out.

He blinked at the billionaire. "Either you have another problem, or that was meant to come out, because that was way too easy."

Tony hummed and stared at the armor still on the table, then the piece Bucky pulled out, then turned to face him completely. "Okay, put that down, I don't need it right now. Let's talk. You hungry?"

Bucky shrugged, "Not especially, but I'll eat something if you are."

"Okay, well that helped," he said sarcastically, and Bucky chuckled. He leaned back against the table and crossed his arms. "So here's the deal, because I've been told by multiple people I'm not subtle in the least. You killed my parents, more specifically my mom, but I don't want to hold that against you."

"I'd rather you not hold it against me, if I'm being honest," Bucky replied. "I wish I had anything to say other than I'm sorry, but that's all I've got. I remember it, but I don't remember any emotion on my part. Well, no outward emotion." He gestured to his head, "It's like a glass box, right? And I'm trapped inside the second those words are said. I never wanted to. I never wanted to kill anyone. I could see what I was doing, and-" he cut himself off, shaking his head. "Sorry." He cleared his throat, looking away and blinking rapidly. "I could see what I was doing, and inside the glass box, I was screaming myself hoarse. I was trying, desperately, to get out, to control my body again, but I couldn't." He shook his head again. "And every time I replay it, I think about what happened on the helicarrier, too, what was different, why it worked then when it hadn't before. Because now that I was able to get free, I feel like it's my fault that I didn't before." He looked up at the billionaire and said seriously, "I promise you, however much you blame me, I blame myself more."

Tony sighed heavily. "It's right about now I wish you could get drunk. This would be so much easier."

That startled a laugh out of Bucky, who shook his head. "Would it ever. It tastes better today, too."

Tony chuckled, "I don't doubt it. What do you miss the most? The clubs you danced at? The dock you worked at?"

Bucky shook his head, "No, no. I'm far too much of a nerd," he admitted with what could count as a self-deprecating chuckle. "My favorite thing in this time is Nova and National Geographic. I think what I miss the most is bananas. Apparently while I was doing time as the tool that could talk, the bananas we used to eat were wiped out by some sort of fungus or disease or something. I didn't know foods could do that, but it did, and the bananas today are absolutely tasteless."

Tony made a face. "I don't like bananas anyways, so no huge loss for me."

"You would've liked these, trust me," Bucky chuckled. "Anyways, anything else you wanted to discuss?"

"Just a rumor I heard from my dad, and you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but I thought I'd ask since it's legal now. Are you gay?"

Bucky froze, blinked, then burst out laughing. "Okay, I don't know what I was expecting, but, uh, yeah."

Tony nodded. "So, you and Cap?"

Bucky shrugged, a small smile playing on his face. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Tony stared at him for a minute before grinning and pointing at him. "You totally are. I can't believe my dad was right."

Bucky laughed and shook his head. "You think two guys could get an apartment together in one of the only queer cities in the world, and they wouldn't be queer?"

"Well, when you put it that way..."

Bucky laughed again, then sobered. "Seriously, though. We good?"

"Yeah, we're good. You're, like, officially invited to all the movie nights that never actually happen, and whatever."

Bucky laughed, "Thanks, I guess? Maybe we should make those happen, they sound like fun."

"Yeah, they sound like fun, until Clint steals all the popcorn, and Bruce falls asleep, and Natasha steals the remotes and keeps changing the volume..."

Bucky grinned. "Like I said. Sounds like fun."

"Oh my god," Tony murmured. "No. You're the troublemaker, aren't you?"

"I am not!" He insisted. "I got Steve out of nearly every fight he started. He came home with black eyes every other day and twice on Tuesdays."

Tony shook his head, "I can't see it. The most reckless thing he's done since I've known him is jump out of a jet without wearing a parachute, and we were only a hundred feet above water."

Bucky took a breath, then let it out. "Oh. So that's what he's hiding from me." He nodded, then walked away. "Thanks, Tony."

"My pleasure. Hey, can I watch on the cameras?"

"Nope!" He said cheerfully, not turning around.

He waited until Bucky had left the lab before looking at the far wall. "Jarvis?"


	4. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter meeting the Avengers! Eventually they all find out (except Natasha, who already knew because she’s Natasha. Obviously.) Thanks to MadelineTreats for the prompt!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who can find the Far From Home reference?~~
> 
> Y'all I'm such Marvel trash it's not even funny. I've seen FFH in the theaters twice now. Anyone else? (At least it's not 3 (4?) times like my best friend...) ;)

Peter liked to think he lived an ordinary life. As ordinary as it could be, at least, with a vigilante nightlife. That is, until he met Tony Stark.

“Hey, Mr. Stark!” He chirped, slinging his backpack off in the lab, because even that was ordinary. His new ordinary, anyways.

“Hey, kid,” Tony chuckled. “I, uh, actually had something to ask you. You got a minute?”

Peter’s heart thumped in his chest, but he grinned and nodded anyways. “Of course! What is it?”

“Well,” Tony said, picked up a piece to fiddle with, then set it back down with a sigh. “Let’s go for a walk.” He motioned Peter out of the lab, and confused, Peter complied.

“Mr. Stark, I’m starting to get nervous.”

“I know, kid.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I wish there was an easier way to say this. I wish this wasn’t happening at all, actually, not with you here, but I’m selfish, and not willing to sacrifice our time together.”

“That means a lot to me,” Peter admitted softly. “But what’s wrong?”

“It’s not wrong, per se, but...” another sigh, and a shake of his head. “The rogue Avengers have been pardoned and are headed back this way. I invited them to stay in the Tower again, and they all accepted.” He glanced at Peter, “The Avengers is all any of us have for a family. We need each other.”

“That’s really nice of you,” Peter started, “but why are you telling me?”

“Because around here, unless you wanna tell them who you are, that a fourteen-year-old beat them in Germany, then you’re gonna be either Peter, or Spider-Man. If you’re Spider-Man, that’s all you are. If you’re Peter, then Spider-Man could still join us on missions, but it would be harder to keep it a secret. Which do you prefer?”

“You’re allowed to be selfish,” Peter said by way of answer. “And right now, I’m gonna be selfish, too. I really like our lab time. I don’t wanna give that up. I’m willing to figure out how to keep my lives separate.”

“You’re a good kid,” Tony said quietly, glancing his way. “I’m sorry it’s come to this.”

“I’m sorry, but all I’m hearing is ‘I’m not good enough,’ and I’m not accepting that. Mr. Stark, you are quite literally one of the best things to ever happen to me. And now I’m meeting the Avengers twice; once as Spider-Man, and once as Peter. And I’m practically gonna be living with them on the weekends. And you’re apologizing?” He shook his head. “You’re a genius. You should know how I feel about this by now.”

“Alright, kid,” Tony laughed. “Come on, back to work.”

* * *

“Um... hi.” Peter blinked at the people in the room, then at Tony, who sighed.

“C’mon in, Pete. Team, this is Peter Parker, my intern. Peter, these are... well, the Avengers.”

Peter chuckled, “I kinda figured.”

“Hello, Peter,” Natasha smiled at him, stepping forward to shake his hand. “I hope we can be friends.” She leaned in and whispered, “We spiders need to stick together.” Stepping back, she winked at him when he gaped at her.

“That’s not fair,” he blurted, pointing at her, but she just winked.

“Hi, Peter,” Sam said next, smiling at him.

Peter blinked. “Falcon, right? Excuse me if I seem rude, but I didn’t think you were an Avenger?”

Sam chuckled and shrugged. “I dunno either. I just never left.”

“Yeah, and he’s a pain in all of our butts,” came from Peter’s left, and he looked to see the Winter Soldier.

He blinked, then grinned and extended his hand. “Hi, Mr. Barnes. What’s your superhero name? Or do you go by the Winter Soldier?”

Bucky chuckled and shook Peter’s hand, “Call me Bucky, please. And the people in Wakanda kept calling me the White Wolf, and I kinda adopted that. I’m not averse to the Winter Soldier, though.”

“That’s really cool!” Peter chirped, grinning at him before turning away. He saw someone that made his jaw go slack. “Oh my god,” he said. “You- you’re-”

“Yeah,” Bruce sighed. “The Hulk.”

“No!” Peter said. “I mean yes, but- but- you’re Doctor Bruce Banner. I read your paper on gamma radiation in tenth grade and it completely changed the way I thought about biochemical engineering. I read everything I could get my hands on after that, and to this day you’re one of my favorite scientist. I mean, your picture is on the wall of my school next to Einstein and Tesla. I’m a huge fan.”

Bruce raised his brows at Tony, then shook Peter’s hand. “It’s nice to meet such a young, enthusiastic fan. Maybe we could meet in the lab sometime?”

“I’d love that!” Peter cheered. “Thank you so much!”

Bruce chuckled, “Thank you, Peter.”

He took a breath and turned to Tony. “I know you told me what to expect, but for some reason I didn’t realize that was gonna happen.”

Tony chuckled, “Kid, you just made his entire year.” He stepped forward and clapped his hand on Peter’s shoulder, turning him around. “C’mon, two more, then I have lunch for everyone.”

Peter blushed and extended his hand to Captain America. “Sorry, I got excited.”

“Don’t ever apologize for being the smartest one in the room,” he said, and Peter chuckled, shaking his head.

“I’m not. But thank you, I’ll remember that, Mr. Rogers.”

His face screwed up, “I don’t even own a cardigan. Call me Steve, please,” he winked, and Peter chuckled.

“Hello, Mr. Barton.”

“Hey, Peter! Mr. Barton was my father. Clint, yeah? Now what’s for lunch?”

Peter laughed and shrugged, taking a step back. “Let’s find out!”

Clint grinned suddenly. “Race you there!”

“No fair!” Peter laughed, already on his tail.

* * *

Living with the Avengers was actually really cool. Ned came over once and completely fanboyed over Dr. Banner, just like Peter had. MJ came over and spent almost the entire time with Natasha, a pairing that absolutely terrified Peter; MJ was scary enough by herself. May came over and was nice once she was told they didn’t know that Peter was Spider-Man.

Then, of course, his life had to get weird again. “Peter!” Tony barked into the phone. “How soon can you get to the Tower?”

“Twenty minutes.”

“You have fifteen. Keep your mask on.” With that, the call ended, and Peter sprinted into the nearest alleyway, shedding his clothes and donning his suit in record time.

“Karen? What’s the situation?” He asked once the mask was on. He webbed his backpack to the underside of the emergency stairwell, then shot up out of the alley.

“I’m not sure, Peter. I can contact Mr. Stark, if you’d like.”

“No, don’t bother him. It’s fine, I’ll know soon enough.” He whooped as he swung through the city. “I know I’m in a hurry, but I’ve missed this.”

“Your endorphin levels are elevated,” Karen replied. “It seems to be cathartic for you.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Peter chuckled. “How long’s it been?”

“Your last logged activity was just over a week ago.”

“Wow,” he said, and never saw the tail coming.

* * *

He woke up to find even breathing hurt. “Ow,” he mumbled. “Wha-?”

“It’s alright, Pete,” Tony’s voice soothed. “You got hit on your way to the Tower. It cracked three of your ribs, broke one, and left you with a concussion. How’re you feeling?”

“Like I broke eight of my ribs and cracked my head open.” He squinted, “Can we turn the lights off?”

“Fri, lights at three percent,” Tony said, smiling when Peter opened his eyes and found him. “Hey, there you are. The rest of the team’s pretty worried about you; all they know is you’re hurt. You, Peter, not you Spider-Man. If they come in, they’ll find out who you are. Is that okay? Or do you want to keep your identity a secret? I won’t blame you either way.”

“It’s okay,” Peter murmured, eyes slipping shut. “They can come in. I’ll prob’ly fall asleep anyways.”

“That’s fine, kid.” Tony gently ran his hand through Peter’s hair, and Peter mumbled nonsensically, subconsciously turning toward the touch. He started to lift his hand away, but Peter’s eyes cracked open.

“Mr. Stark?”

“I’m not leaving, kid,” he promised, hand firmly back in Peter’s hair now. “Fri, let them know they can come in. Quietly.” He perched on the edge of the bed and waited for his teammates.

“Tony, what happened?” Steve asked as soon as he was in the room. “All you said was Peter-” he stopped as he took in the boy, still in his super-suit. “Oh.”

“Tony,” Bruce started, then stopped. “How old’s he?”

“Sixteen.”

Bucky looked like he wanted to say some very choice words. “You brought a fourteen-year-old to Berlin?”

“You obviously don’t know him,” Tony said wryly. “If I hadn’t, if I hadn’t given him a new suit, he would’ve stowed away anyways, wearing his original suit, which is literally just a hoodie. I knew if he was with me, I could at least somewhat protect him. It’s the lesser of two evils.”

Steve sighed, but nodded. “He’s right, guys. I know how Peter felt. He did what he could.” He offered his teammate a crooked smile, which was returned.

“He was awake a minute ago, but the best thing for him to do is rest. He should wake up soon, if everyone wants to stay.”

“No,” Peter whined, eyes still firmly closed. “Sleep.”

“I know, buddy,” Tony murmured, running his hand over the kid’s curls. “We’ll be here when you wake up. You can sleep for now.”

Peter snuffled, but didn’t say anything else, and Tony looked up, accidentally catching Natasha’s eye. “What?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “I just didn’t know you were good with kids. You surprised me, Stark.”

He smiled at her, knowing what she meant, and gestured around the room. “Anyone wanna bring chairs in? There’s only one in here right now.”

They all agreed, leaving to grab one chair each, and Steve came in with two and Sam in tow.

“Oh, so that’s what he meant,” Sam said as soon as he walked in, and nodded. “You know I’m pissed you brought a kid to Germany.”

“Or are you just pissed that a kid kicked your butt?”

“Ooh, burn,” Peter mumbled, mouth quirking up, and Tony chuckled.

“You up, kid?”

“No. Why’re the lights back on?”

“Fri.”

Peter sighed once they were lowered and opened his eyes, blinking at everyone looking at him.

“Thank you for trusting us with your secret, Peter,” Bruce said, and Peter smiled at him, then at everyone else.

“When I first learned you were coming, Mr. Stark said you were family. Said the Avengers were all you had. Well, I have a very small family. It’s just me and May now. But you guys have shown me what it’s like to have a big, dysfunctional, crazy, happy family. I should’ve told you guys a long time ago. Thank you for being patient with me.”

Natasha stepped forward and brushed a kiss over his forehead. “You’re the one that brought us together again, Peter. So thank you.”

Everyone echoed her sentiments, and for the first time, Peter felt like nothing could get him down.


	5. A Piece of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve’s in the hospital on his birthday, but where he really wants to be is out looking for Bucky. After all, he’s the reason Steve’s still alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re currently suspending all time 😅 I know the timelines don’t match up but do I care? Not in the least. Enjoy!

He was stuck in the hospital again.Theoretically he knew he’d be out soon—he healed fast—but he didn’t like hospitals. Not that anyone did, but he’d had more than his fair share of them growing up.

Plus... today’s his birthday.

And he’d hoped to be out looking for Bucky. He knew the brunet remembered him; after all, he’s the reason Steve was alive and in the hospital. Bucky pulled him out of the water.

“Happy birthday, Steve!” The door banged open and he just barely caught his flinch, turning the energy into a slight shift in his posture to watch his friends barge in, presents piled high.

“You guys,” he laughed. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”

“We know,” Natasha flipped her hair. “We wanted to. You’re stuck in the hospital after saving the world, you deserve a little R&R.”

“Truthfully, I’m not getting too much of either,” he chuckled. “But thank you, seriously.”

Natasha chuckled and leaned in conspiratorially. “There should be cake coming up soon, but Tony thought it would be a good idea to have Clint carry it, so I can’t promise anything.”

Steve laughed hard enough his ribs protested. “I won’t expect anything.” He winked at her, and she grinned back.

“Alright, presents!” Tony exclaimed, and Bruce touched his arm.

“We’re waiting for Clint, Tony,” he reminded the billionaire, who huffed.

“Who left him in charge of the cake? I’m gonna go make sure he hasn’t tripped or eaten all of it. I swear, if he-”

He swept out of the room, still muttering to himself, and Steve chuckled. “So whose idea was this?”

“Partially all of ours,” Natasha said, then admitted, “but you know they can’t plan anything and have it come out in any sort of order. Well,” she tilted her head, “he could.” She jerked a thumb in Bruce’s direction, and the doctor stepped up with a smile.

“We wanted to make sure you weren’t getting too bored in here,” he said. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better each day,” Steve nodded. “My ribs still hate me, but my head’s better.”

“That’s good,” Bruce said. “What do you think, tomorrow?”

“That’s what the doctors were saying, yeah. I hope so, at least.”

“Happy birthday!” Clint yelled as he walked in, followed by Tony, who was carrying the cake.

Steve chuckled, “Thanks, Clint.”

Natasha winked at him before brushing past the archer to grab the cake and start cutting it, handing it out on little paper plates that Bruce was holding. When she finished, she moved to the foot of the bed and sat with her legs crossed in the middle, in between Steve’s feet. “I think we should play a game,” she suggested, eyes twinkling.

“Am I gonna hate it?” He raised a brow at her, and she tilted her head, pretending to think about it.

“Probably.”

“Let’s do it.” They grinned at each other, and Natasha started.

“Never have I ever, but with cake instead of alcohol. If you finish your piece, you’re out.”

“Aw, man!” Clint said, looking down at his empty plate. He turned pleading eyes on Natasha. “Can I get another piece?”

“Sure,” she laughed. “I’ll start while you do. Never have I ever...accidentally blown something up.”

“You’re targeting me,” Tony grumbled, completely missing the fact that Steve had taken a bite as well.

“Wait a second,” Natasha said, staring at the blond. “When did you accidentally blow something up?”

Steve laughed, “‘38, I think? Bucky and I were messing around. Apparently seagulls don’t like... well, you don’t have it anymore. I think the modern-day equivalent would be Mentos.”

Natasha laughed. “You blew up a seagull?”

“It was only one,” he shrugged, a small smile on his face.

“Okay, that’s it, you’re next,” she laughed. “What have you not done?”

Steve hummed, considering. “Never have I ever gotten drunk.”

“Dammit,” Tony whispered, and Clint sighed. Natasha smirked as even Bruce took a bite. “How?” The billionaire complained, and Steve shrugged.

“We never had enough money before, and once we did, I had the serum, so I couldn’t.”

“Damn,” Tony said. “Okay, that’s it, I’m inventing a super alcohol so you can get drunk.”

“It already exists,” Steve laughed. “Thor’s Asguardian mead. I still metabolize it pretty fast, but it’s powerful enough to knock me on my ass if I drink enough in a short enough amount of time.”

“Why have we not done this?” Tony questioned, and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Never have I ever been high.”

“Really?” Steve asked as he scooped a bite of cake into his mouth.

Tony blinked at him. “Where the hell did you get high?”

Steve laughed, “The asthma cigarettes I used to need had marijuana as the key ingredient because it relaxes your muscles.”

“My turn!” Clint cheered. “Let’s see, what’ve I not done... oh! Never have I ever had sex with a dude.”

Tony spluttered as Steve took another bite. “What?”

Steve turned amused eyes on Natasha. _Pity them or destroy them?_ He asked, and she shrugged, but her eyes said, _destroy them._

“I grew up in Brooklyn, Tony. It was, quite literally, one of the only queer havens in the U.S. at that time. One of my friends was a drag queen. Brooklyn’s the only place in New York you could safely live with another guy and not have people ask you questions. I wasn’t ever much to look at, but Bucky would’ve been a catch for any girl. People would’ve gotten suspicious if we were anywhere else. Plus,” he paused, and locked eyes with Natasha for a second before looking back at the billionaire. “I’m bi.”

Tony blinked for long enough that Steve worried for his mental health. “Alright,” he said slowly. “And if I were to ask if you and Barnes ever...”

“I’d tell you that’s none of your business,” Steve smirked.

“Oh my god,” Clint moaned. “My childhood hero is falling apart in front of my eyes. Nat, make him stop.”

Natasha just laughed. “If you ever thought he was anything other than Steve Rogers, you brought it upon yourself.”

“Not many people see it that way,” Steve said quietly.

“I do. Because I know how it is,” she promised, giving him a small smile as she squeezed his ankle.

“Hey, sorry I’m late!” Sam said as he walked in. “Happy birthday, Steve. The guys at work did not want to let me go.” He chuckled, grabbed a slice of cake, and sat on the bed next to Natasha. “What’d I miss?”

Steve grinned at him. “Never have I ever, but with cake.” He quickly filled him in, and Sam ate a few bites of cake to catch up.

“No,” Clint whined. “Steve, you gotta tell him.”

Steve just chuckled. “Clint, Sam’s my best friend. You think he wasn’t the first person I told?”

“My turn,” Sam said loudly before Clint could say anything else. “Never have I ever...” he paused, then grinned at Steve. “Never have I ever jumped out of a plane without a chute.”

“Fuck off,” Steve mumbled as he took a bite, and Sam just laughed.

“C’mon, you deserve that one.”

“I will admit to no such thing,” Steve protested, raising his chin and turning away before turning back just as quickly with a wide grin on his face.

The game went by fairly quickly with Steve losing first, quickly followed by Tony and Clint. Steve busied himself with cutting another piece before the game actually ended, and though he hated doing this, he allowed his eyes to start to droop, and he stifled a yawn.

Of course Natasha noticed, and of course she knew what he was doing, but she was gracious about it and herded everyone out soon enough. “Don’t stay up too late,” she murmured, kissing his forehead. “I know you want him back but it’s gotta be on his own time.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, squeezing her hand slightly. “For believing me, and believing in him. For setting all this up.” He gestured to the remnants of their party. “For not giving up on me. I’m grateful to have you, Nat. I really am.”

She smiled at him, “And I’m grateful for you. Now get some rest so you can go back to almost-not-killing-yourself tomorrow.” They chuckled, and she squeezed his hand before dropping it. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Goodnight, Natasha.”

She smiled at him as she shut the door, and then he was alone.

Struggling slightly with his ribs, he sat up and placed the cake on the windowsill. “I miss you, Buck,” he murmured. “Come home. Please.” He sat for a couple minutes, staring out the window, then sighed and laid down. After a bit, he closed his eyes and said, “Do you remember the day we met? I didn’t know, then, what you’d mean to me, but I knew you were special, the second you came in there, eyes blazing, fists swinging... I swear you put the fear of God in that guy’s eyes.” He chuckled weakly. “You asked me if I was alright, and God, I was so stubborn. Got up, pretended I didn’t notice your hand to help me, but I think you knew I noticed it. Didn’t seem to faze you much anyways. I said I was fine, and I had him on the ropes, and you... you said-”

“I said, I know you did,” finished a voice for him, and Steve’s eyes shot open.

“Bucky,” he whispered, barely knowing what he was saying. “Please.”

“You don’t want me back yet. I’m dangerous still.”

“I don’t care.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, that I remember, punk.”

“Jerk,” came the automatic response. “C’mon, at least lemme see you.”

“That means I have to see you,” Bucky said quietly. “And I’m not sure I can do that. I hurt you, Steve.”

“Not intentionally.”

“It was.”

“It wasn’t. It wasn’t you, Buck, please.”

The brunet grumbled and slipped into the room. “I’m never gonna win against you, am I?”

“Nope,” Steve grinned cheekily, then sobered. “It’s really good to see you, Buck.”

“Yeah, pal.” His voice was soft. “Me too.” He stepped forward until he was close enough they could easily see each other. He looked so sad, and Steve’s hand twitched towards him without permission. “Y’know,” he started, stepping closer and sitting, close enough that Steve’s hand brushed his hip. Completely accidentally, of course. “I still don’t remember everything.” Steve’s heart dropped. “But I do remember you. And who you were to me.” He looked up at the blonde. “Who you... are? To me?”

“Always,” Steve nodded, voice tight with emotions.

“So,” he said again, but it sounded more like a question, he sounded more unsure, and he leaned forward, eyes flickering down briefly before returning to Steve’s eyes.

“Always,” Steve repeated, because he meant it. Bucky smiled because he knew, and in the moment their lips met, everything was right again.


	6. Helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A completely self-indulgent Stucky sickfic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this is actually 401 words written at 1:30am last night but I like it? So it shouldn’t suck 😅 anyways. Enjoy!! And as always if there’s something you want to see, regardless of ship/prompt (as long as it’s a ship I like and not smutty), drop me a comment!

“Damn,” Steve said, sympathetic, “Who’d’a thunk supersoldiers could still get sick, huh?”

Bucky shrugged miserably. “Viruses mutate, I guess. It makes sense.” He shifted lower, laying down again. “M’head’s pounding. Meds?”

“None that’ll work for very long,” Steve replied apologetically, carding his fingers through dark brown tresses. “I can close the curtains.”

“Please,” Bucky answered, too miserable to care that it came out like a whine.

“Anything else?”

“Kill the person who gave this to me?” He shifted again, “Just kidding.” A slight pause, “Mostly.”

Steve chuckled. “How about I get you a glass of water instead?” Without waiting for an answer, he walked out of the room.

Almost at that exact moment, the air kicked on, and Bucky cursed as he burrowed under the covers, shivering violently. Exhausted, he closed his eyes and buried most of his face in the covers, groaning.

“Shit,” Steve said when he came back in, deadpan. “Air too cold?”

“Ugh,” was Bucky’s intelligent response, to which Steve chuckled before walking out again.

A few seconds later, the air turned off, and a few seconds after that, Steve walked back in, arms piled high with blankets. “I checked with Bruce earlier,” Steve told him. “It’s just a cold with a low-grade fever. The best thing to do is sweat it out. We’re about to test what my immune system can take while getting you warm. Kill two birds with one stone that way.”

Bucky just hummed, warmer under the added blankets. He hadn’t realized quite how tired he was until he jumped awake when Steve slid into bed next to him. “No,” he moaned. “You’ll get sick.”

“That’s what we’re testing,” Steve chuckled. “And anyways, it’s not like my immune system can’t take it now.” He kept moving closer, and Bucky gave up, burying his face in Steve’s chest with a soft groan.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, but was asleep before he even heard Steve’s answer.

* * *

He felt much better the next morning as he walked out to the kitchen. “Morning, Steve,” He said, smiling.

“You know what sucks?”

Bucky stopped, blinked, and studied the blond. “What?”

“Being sick.”

Bucky just chuckled. “I’m gonna take this time to remind you that I did tell you this was gonna happen.”

“Yeah, and I told you God Himself couldn’t keep me from helping you,” Steve shot back. He groaned again, “Just shut up and pass me the Motrin.”


	7. Red Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has a nightmare and Steve comforts him. Angst with a crap-ton of fluff, basically.

They were speaking Russian, but it was muffled. He didn’t know why, since he was right there with them. He must not be operating at maximum optimization. He tried to open his mouth to speak and found he couldn’t even do that.

He blinked, and suddenly a familiar blond face filled his view. _Steve._ He glanced around quickly, making sure no one had noticed, and realized he was the only one who had seen the blond. It was in his head.

He didn’t think so much as he knew something wasn’t right. But this definitely wasn’t right. Again, he tried to alert someone, and found he couldn’t even open his mouth.

“ _Soldat,_ ” came a sharp voice, and he opened his eyes ( _when had he closed them?_ ) to find one of the other operatives motioning him to the chair. His brain froze as his legs automatically carried him to the offending piece of metal and plastic and wires.

Hands pushed him down, then more hands, covering his body, up to his chin, mouth, nose, eyes, forehead. Every part of him was covered in hands.

They let up and he sat up with a gasp like in a bad movie and saw himself in a mirror. He was covered in red. Red from the hands. Blood.

Now his mouth started working. “No,” he said, rubbing at his cheeks and forehead. “No, please!” He tried every language he knew and started scratching at the red, only causing his skin to open up with more red underneath. His own blood, this time. “No!”

He felt hands try to pin him down and he struggled, whirling around and pushing back before abruptly falling. He blinked—once, twice, three times—and found himself on the floor in a dark room. He looked around and realized he knew where he was, and looked up at the bed to find Steve looking at him.

He gave a shuddering breath and looked away. “Sorry I woke you.”

“C’mon, Buck,” Steve said softly. “We go through this same song-and-dance every time. You say you’re fine, I call your bull, and we get back in bed together with no more nightmares. Let’s cut to the chase this time, okay?” He opened his arms, inviting Bucky in,but Bucky sat, frozen, staring up at him. He sat there for long enough that Steve’s arms lowered and he cautiously asked, “Buck?”

“Yeah?” He responded after a minute.

“Are... are you gonna come up here with me?”

Bucky met his eyes and shrugged, looking away as his breathing sped up. “Okay,” Steve said. “Okay, hey, it’s okay.” He slipped off the bed to kneel in front of him. “You’re alright, Buck. It was just a nightmare. Just a bad dream. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

“They already did,” he answered roughly, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “They already hurt me, you understand? They hurt me and I’m still hurting from it. They won.”

“Now that I just refuse to believe,” Steve said, stubborn as ever. “Buck, you beat them. Every day you wake up and remember something new, you beat them. Every day you wake up and aren’t controlled by them, you beat them. Every time you make your own decision and do something because you want to, you beat them. You understand that, right?”

Bucky huffed out a breath. “I guess so.” He wiped his hands down his face, “I’m sorry. This one really screwed with me. Not that the rest don’t, but.” He shrugged, and Steve offered him a crooked smile.

“I know. You wanna get back in bed now?”

“Honestly? Not really.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I’d be happy if I never went to sleep again if just to avoid the nightmares.” He leaned back and regarded Steve. “I want tea. Help me up?” He extended his hand up to the blond, who grasped it and tugged him upright.

“You wanna watch a movie, too? We could grab some snacks and make a thing of it.”

Bucky offered the blond his first smile of the night, and if it was mostly fake, neither of them mentioned it. “Sure, Steve. Sounds great.”


	8. One Last Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hardest part wasn’t ever saying goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... this is just sad angst that I have no excuse for. This might be the one and only time I don’t have a happy ending, so... watch out. Also this entire thing happened at probably midnight last night in like 20 minutes so... yeah. But hey, at least I’m posting something!

The hardest part wasn’t ever saying goodbye.

* * *

“Bye, Stevie! See ya t’morrow!”

“Bye, Buck,” the blond grinned, hiding a cough in his elbow as he leaned back in the hospital bed.

~ • ~

“You’ll get through this, you pain in my ass,” Bucky said, hand circling Steve’s back contrasting his words.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve said, once he had the breath. He took an extra-deep one then relaxed further onto Bucky. “Just, why’s it always hafta happen at one in the mornin’?” He griped, eyes closing.

“Hell if I know,” Bucky mumbled, lowering them back down so they were laying once more, then sighing and sitting up. “I’m gonna go back t’my room. Night, Steve.”

Steve hummed. “Night. Bye, Buck. Thanks.”

“Bye. And anytime, you know that already.”

~ • ~

“Bye, Stevie,” Bucky murmured, slipping his soldier’s cap on and smiling at the blond like it didn’t break his heart.

“Leave some Nazis for me, y’hear?” Steve grinned, bravado cracked.

~ • ~

 _Goodbye, Steve_ , he thought, strapped to the bed, pain lacing his entire body. _I’m sorry_.

~ • ~

“Grab my hand!” Steve yelled, then, “No!” When the pole cracked. He felt hope pooling in his chest when the pole didn’t actually give way, and he allowed himself to take a second to assess the best way to help Bucky.

The pole gave.

“Bucky!” He screamed, Bucky’s own scream echoing in his ears. He grabbed onto his own pole and wished for the same fate, fighting back scalding tears. “No,” he whispered, not accepting fate until his only options were to pull himself back into the train or become a bug on the side of a tunnel.

~ • ~

 _Goodbye_ , Steve thought, seeing the ice fill his vision from the cockpit. _And hello again_.

~ • ~

 _Goodbye_ , he thought once more, some seventy-odd years later, watching the Winter Soldier tumble into the Hudson just after him. But then the water was upon him, and swimming grew to be too much, and holding his breath grew to be too much.

He didn’t even feel himself being dragged out of the water.

~ • ~

“Bye, Buck,” he smiled, leaning in for a peck on the lips. “Have a good day.”

“Thanks,” the brunet agreed easily, a smile firmly on his own lips. “Wanna come with me today?”

Steve shook his head regretfully. “Promised Shuri I’d help her. Next time?”

“Definitely,” Bucky grinned. “The goats really are adorable. It’s a shame you’re missing it.”

Steve just laughed and ushered him out the door. “ _Goodbye_ , Buck,” he said seriously, smile belying his words. Bucky’s laugh followed him all the way back inside.

~ • ~

“Steve,” he managed, watching his own arm turn to dust, and that should probably be more disturbing than it actually was for him, but at this point, he’d pretty much seen everything.

Still, whatever this was meant he and Steve only had a few seconds. Ones that weren’t nearly enough as he raised his gaze to lock eyes with the blond.

“Buck,” Steve mouthed, eyes filled with horror.

“Stevie,” he tried, but it was too late, and suddenly he was all dust, and knew nothing more.

“Buck,” the blond choked out, falling to his knees by Bucky’s ashes.

Bucky—his best friend, lover, protector, partner, _everything_ —was gone.

“Goodbye, Buck,” he managed, before falling to pieces.

* * *

The hardest part wasn’t ever saying goodbye.

It was knowing there wouldn’t be another hello later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes... the title is a Hamilton reference. “Teach then how to say goodbye, one last time” so kudos to whoever caught that!!


	9. Indiscriminate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events immediately after Infinity War, as told by Morgan Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so apparently I’m such Hamiltrash now that I literally Can Not Post a sad thing without naming it after something Hamilton-relate. “Death doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes”
> 
> Anyways.... this is pretty much just all sad but I hope you like it anyways!!

_“I love you three thousand.”_

* * *

Morgan frowned. That wasn’t Daddy. That was a picture of Daddy. A hologram, he had told her. “Mommy?” She turned to ask. “Where’s Daddy?”

Mommy smiled, but it was sad. Morgan didn’t know that was possible until just then. “Daddy... had to leave for a while. He’s very busy, but he’s always protecting you, okay, Mo?”

Maybe if she agreed, Mommy wouldn’t cry. “Okay!” She wiggled down from the couch. “Can Petey play with me?”

“Oh,” Mommy said softly. “Honey, Peter’s busy-”

“Peter would love to play with you,” came a voice from the doorway, and Morgan’s legs were carrying her over to him almost before she realized who it was.

“Petey!” She cheered.

“Morgan!” He cheered back, and picked her up, swinging around and setting her on his shoulders. She giggled and held on to his hands.

“Don’t worry, Pepper,” Petey was telling Mommy. “I’ll watch her for a bit.”

She swung her legs absentmindedly, accidentally kicking Petey in the ribs. “Ouch!” He exclaimed, turning to walk out of the room. She giggled and did it again, just as softly as before.

“Hey!” He grabbed both feet in one hand before reaching the other over his head to grab at her. “What’re you tryin’a do, little missy, huh?”

She screamed a laugh and batted his hand away. Daddy’s favorite thing in the whole wide world was to do that. He’d told her so. “Hey, Petey, d’you know something Daddy told me? He said to not tell anyone else, but you’re Petey. You’re not anyone else.”

He chuckled at that, but pulled his hand away from her to transfer an ankle over. “What’s that?”

“I went downstairs for a drink and I heard Daddy...” she paused and lowered her voice. It seemed right to do. “He said shit,” she whispered. “He told me not to say it again. Is it a bad word?”

Petey laughed when she said that, which is good, even if she didn’t know why he was laughing. “Yeah, Mo, that’s a bad word.” He swung her off his shoulders and settled her onto his hip so he can look at her. “Don’t say it again, okay?”

Petey looked kinda sad, too. But it helped Mommy earlier when Morgan agreed without fuss. “Okay!” With that, she wiggled out of his grasp and ran to her tent. “C’mon, Petey, let’s play Daddy! I be Daddy, and you be a bad guy.” She came out of the tent with a helmet on her face, grinning even though he couldn’t see.

Petey grinned back, but it looked even more sad now, so she skipped over to him and pulled on his hand, directing him to sit in front of the tent. “See, I’m gonna protect everyone, like Daddy does! Mommy said he’s protecting me from way, way up high, so high we can’t even see him! So we gotta be doing good, too, so Daddy can come back again when it’s all safe! Okay?”

“Okay,” Petey said, and he sounded weird, but Morgan didn’t dwell on it, just jumped onto him, causing him to roll back in the grass.

“I gotchu, bad guy! Iron Man gotchu!”


	10. In Memorium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the Tumblr post, Natasha takes Steve to the Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian as a joke, and quickly realizes it’s not a joke when he spends twenty minutes staring at the Bucky wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m gonna be honest with y’all... I don’t know why that name stuck with me as hard as it did. 😂

“You know,” he started, still watching the screen. “There’s something I never told him... never told anyone.”

“We all have secrets,” she replied, knowing more than the average person about things covered. The glance he gave her told her he knew what she meant.

“Sometimes,” he allowed, and continued to watch the screen. “Sometimes not.”

“I can’t tell which time this is,” she responded with a slight smile.

He lost all form of humor the next time he looked at her. “This time it’s not.”

“Okay,” she said, more as a placeholder than anything else. She didn’t know what he was getting at.

“People today are a lot more... open,” he confessed. “It scared me at first. I thought they were going to get hurt, because that’s how it was. That’s why-” he paused, swallowed, then continued. “That’s why I never told anyone I’m bi.” Natasha blinked, once again at a loss for words. She didn’t have to, as Steve kept talking. “I find beauty in everyone, regardless of gender. But the only one I’ve ever loved... he’s dead. With no chance for me to get him back.” He turned to her, begging with his eyes for her to understand. “Even just as friends. I just-” he shook his head hard. “I know it’s a little bit dependent, but we made it work. We did more than that, we thrived. And now he’s gone.”

“Never say never,” Natasha said, and hooked his arm with her own as she led him out into the street. “Have you heard of the Winter Soldier? Credited with about two dozen kills in the last fifty years.”

Steve frowned at his feet, then glanced at her. “How is that possible?”

“He was first shown on the scene in ‘65. It’s said it took twenty years to break and train him.” She looked at his face and saw exactly when it hit him.

“Natasha,” he said seriously, “are you sure?”

“Would I tell you if I wasn’t?” She countered, and his grip on her arm tightened slightly.

“You’ll help me?”

She chuckled slightly, placing her free hand on top of the one clamped over her arm. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She gave a small smile and drummed her fingers on his arm. “It’s not a purely selfless motive, though.”

“How so?” He asked curiously, sparing her a glance as they wove through the crowd.

“You’ve heard me speak about Yasha, yes?”

Her Russian accent was barely there. Steve loved it, then felt bad about loving it because of what it meant. “Uh, yes. He was your teacher, right?”

“My teacher, the first man I truly loved... yes.” She swallows and was silent for a couple steps. “He and the Winter Soldier are one and the same,” she finished in a whisper, consonants hardened even more than before.

Steve huffed out a breath, cataloging the new information. “I can’t say I’m very surprised,” he eventually offered. “Even as a kid, he was teaching his sisters things. He did their hair almost every day. He never really cared for the societal norms that everyone tried to push on him. He preferred just to be himself, a nerd and a ladies’ man.”

“He taught me and the other girls in the Red Room how to use our bodies to our advantage in a fight, but also how to hold a baby bird so gently we wouldn’t hurt it. He taught us how to plant our feet so the recoil of a gun wouldn’t knock us on our asses, and he taught us how to be silent in the forest, to not disturb the wildlife.” Her eyes were far away. “He taught us the beautiful things he could while he was there.” She offered him a smile, not bothering to hide the pain in her eyes. “I like to think we had something special, more so than any of the other girls. He had more autonomy back then, but... it didn’t last.” She swallowed and leaned into him, and he freed his arm from her grip to wrap it around her shoulders.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he told her, even though it was almost painful.

“Yes I do,” she responded with what was almost a laugh. “You need me to. And I- it needs to be said.” She sighed and continued. “Someone higher up saw how he was looking at us, like we were his kids, almost, and they didn’t like their weapon acting human.” Her lips curled in a snarl. “They wiped him. In front of us. To teach us a lesson.” Her eyes were bright, but she gulped and the brightness faded slightly.

Steve inhaled quickly—not a gasp—and held it for a second. “C’mon,” he muttered. “Let’s get back to the Tower. Let’s get some privacy.”

She stopped him with a hand on his chest. “If I don’t say this now, I won’t say it at all,” she warned him, and he nodded, looked around, and pulled her into a nearby alleyway.

“Better?”

“Somewhat,” she agreed with what was supposed to be a smile. “They wiped him in front of us to show us no mercy would be tolerated. Then they replaced him with someone else. Some kind of drill instructor, I don’t know, but he wanted to be there. Yasha never wanted it.” Her words were clipped again. “I can-” She gulped again and finished in a horrified voice, “I can still hear him screaming. It’s the one thing I still dream about.” She gulped back a sob and he hugged her to him almost absentmindedly, mind racing.

One thought was prominent above all the noise. _Whatever it took, he would find Bucky._


	11. Forever and a Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt, “Why can’t we have our wedding without something going wrong?”
> 
> Technically the prompt was a caption on a picture on Pinterest... but it counts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all it’s 2:45am, I just wrote this, it’s almost 1500 words and I’m tired BUT I promised my best friend that I’d post it so here I am!! I’d say I’ll check it in the morning for any glaring mistakes (or any mistakes in general), but I’d be lying, so: if you see something and decide to bring it to my attention, please be nice.
> 
> With that said, enjoy!! It seems as if the Angst Streak has been broken.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today-” Falsworth began, and he was only half joking. Everyone knew about Bucky and Steve anyways, and he _was_ officiated...

Well. Maybe it’s best not to go too far down that line of thinking. But right now Bucky was warm against him, and laughing, and leaning into him slightly, and Steve was content where he was.

An owl hooted from the forest, and everyone tensed.

It happened again and Steve shut his eyes with a silent curse. That was the signal, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

Bucky squeezed his hand and Steve responded too late, squeezing air, and then Bucky was in his line of sight, offering him a hand up. “We get through this,” the brunet said, and Steve knew he wasn’t talking about the impending battle, but was talking about the entire war. “I’ll make an honest man outta you. I don’t care if Falsworth does have to do it.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Steve grinned, feeling the adrenaline rushing through his veins. He squeezed Bucky’s hand to make up for the last time and raced to their tent to grab his shield. Nothing could stop him now.

* * *

“Hey, Dernier,” Steve grinned. “What’re the laws in France about marriage?”

He turned to converse with Gabe for a second, and Steve felt an odd spike of anxiety in his gut. He wasn’t ever one for waiting, but maybe now wasn’t the right time.

Of course, Bucky leaned into him immediately after, so it was alright. It always was, with him right there.

Another pang of anxiety, this time because he was focused on what sounded like voices in the woods. He motioned for the men in front of him to stop talking, and strained his ears.

He knew Bucky’d changed, after Azzano. He had his suspicions, but it was Bucky’s choice to tell him, ultimately. But now as he looked at Bucky and got the confirming nod, he knew he was right. Bucky was... _like him_.

They knew sign language from when Steve was half deaf, and proceeded to use it now. “How do we do this?”

“How many men?”

Steve stopped to listen for a second. “Nine, ten?”

Bucky nodded. “Ambush?”

Steve considered, then nodded. “How many?”

Bucky shrugged. “Overkill.”

He had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. Steve was sure he was rubbing off on Bucky, as Bucky had done to him, and this just confirmed it.

Focusing back on the task at hand, he pointed at Dernier and Gabe, then signed to Bucky. “Take them half a mile east. I’ll take my half behind.”

Bucky raised a brow. “I’m the sniper.”

Steve gave him a sheepish smile. “Not this time.”

Bucky thought for a couple seconds, then clapped his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. “I can’t believe you’re using us as fucking bait!”

Steve shrugged and hoped his eyes conveyed what he was trying to say. _I love you. Please don’t hate me. I’ll keep you safe._

“I hope you know I still plan on marrying you,” Bucky signed just before he motioned for his half of the team to follow him.

* * *

“We make it through this,” Bucky panted once he made it through to the train car Steve was in, “I don’t care who does it. I’m marrying you.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Steve said, and he was.

To think he believed he could _save_ Bucky. Now he was stuck in a seedy bar somewhere in London, trying to forget the sound of his screams as he fell. __ __

* * *

“Buck,” Steve got out, choking on his breath. He’d forgotten what it felt like to not be able to breathe. He didn’t miss it. “You know me. You’ve known me your whole life. You were gonna marry me, pal, and I’m still waitin’ on that. I’m with you, till the end of the line.”

Bucky stopped, then, fist raised to swing at his face again. His eyes looked conflicted, and as they started to clear, he started to speak. “We-”

He didn’t even make it through the first word before Steve was falling into the Potomac, mind racing faster than he was moving. _We make it through this_ kept circling in his mind, and somehow, he knew that’s what Bucky was going to say.

He hit the water like concrete and promptly passed out from the pain. He came to briefly as someone tugged him ashore, then knew no more until _Trouble Man_ in the hospital. “Sam,” he said, only half delirious from the pain meds. “Sam, I’m gonna marry him.”

Sam choked, which he found concerning, but the smile stayed on his face even after he passed out again.

* * *

“-to celebrate the union of a Steven Grant Rogers and a James-”

Natasha grabbed their arms. “Don’t hate me,” she said seriously. “We have a problem coming through the roof in ten seconds.”

“God-fucking-damnit,” Bucky said, and Steve wholeheartedly agreed.

They were hiding behind a table— _dammit he should’ve brought his shield but they had no way to know but this is his job he should’ve known anyways and brought it in case_ —when Bucky started to laugh almost hysterically. “Why can’t we have our wedding without something going wrong?”

Suddenly Steve was laughing too, shaking his head because Bucky was right, Fate had a really fucked up sense of humor. “Don’t worry,” he eventually managed to say. “One day we’ll make it through the entire ceremony. I don’t care what it takes.”

* * *

Apparently all it took was asking Thor. They were currently on Asgard, back in their suits, and Bucky was listening to Thor (because apparently, as king, Thor could officiate). Steve was supposed to be listening to him too, and tuned back in just in time. “-openly declaring your promise to one another as well as to all in attendance today. Captain Rogers, your vows, if you would.”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” he said, then stopped and shook his head. “Bucky. The first memory I have of you is when I was, what, six? I don’t even remember who it was at this point, but I’d disagreed with someone, and as was the norm, I couldn’t keep my big mouth shut, so they were beatin’ on me. Then you come in like an angel, with perfect eyes that I could see even with being colorblind, and I knew then I’d do everything I could to protect you. We’ve tried far too many times to do this, and it’s never worked, but it’s working now, and I’m inexplicably nervous, but I know there’s nowhere I’d rather be, except maybe out on the dance floor with you as my husband. I’ve loved you since before I knew what love was. I’ve loved you through poor and through rich, through sickness and through health—though most of that sickness was my own—and I will continue to do so for the rest of my life. I can’t wait to take on this life as your husband. I’ve loved you forever, and I’ll keep on loving you.”

Bucky laughed and turned to their friends. “Before I start, something you should know is neither of us saw the other’s vows. This is just how well we know each other.” He turned to Steve. “Steven Grant Rogers.” He swallowed a laugh-sob. “Stevie. My first memory of you is a little blond punk who couldn’t keep his mouth shut when it mattered, doubly so when it didn’t, so of course Billy Eisner was beating you up.”

 _Billy Eisner_ , Steve mouthed, and nodded.

”I came in, fists swinging, and for the first time in my short life, I felt right. I’ve loved you through all the ups and all the downs, and that love was strong enough to bring me back to you. If it were only that, I’d be forever grateful. But you’ve challenged me each and every day to be a better man than the day before, and I know for a fact I wouldn’t be half the man I am today if it weren’t for you. I’ve loved you for forever and a day, and I’ll never stop.”

Steve squeezed his hands as he struggled to control his emotions. The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur, and finally, they said those two words, more important than anything else in the universe at that moment.

“I do.”

“I do.”

Thor smiled at them. “You may now kiss the groom.”

Steve grinned at Bucky, who had a gleam in his eye. Before he knew what was happening, Bucky had dipped him and was kissing him. Steve heard Natasha whistle at them, and laughed as they pulled apart.

“Love you forever,” he said as Bucky set him upright.

Bucky smiled at him. “And a day,” he finished, linking their arms.


	12. Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter comes out to the Avengers and realizes they’re more understanding than he first thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Honestly idk if I’ll even write cis!Peter again  
> Me: *doesnt write cis!Peter ever again*  
> Me: *is surprised*
> 
> Why am I like this y’all. Anyways. Enjoy!
> 
> Also I did zero Googling or anything, but HRT is Hormone Replacement Therapy? Right? And is/can be used for trans people? Someone please help idk what I’m doing 😅
> 
> Also I literally wrote this in 20mins at 8am before work so... be gentle with criticisms!

“I wouldn’t necessarily expect you to understand,” Peter said, mainly to Steve, seemingly nervous. He wouldn’t look them in the eye; only Tony, which in and of itself wasn’t odd, but the kid was normally so exuberant and bubbly, it was worrying to see him quiet. “But I... well, I’m trans.” He took a breath to steady himself, and Steve was sure he could hear everyone’s heartbeats even without his enhanced hearing, it was so quiet.

“Why wouldn’t we understand?” Natasha asked gently. “Peter, we have nothing but love and respect for you. I’m slightly worried to find out how coming out has been for you before, based on your reaction right now.”

Peter turned wide eyes on her. “No! I swear, it’s fine, it’s just... it’s really nerve-wracking every time. I had a harder time telling May, and I knew she’d accept me! It’s just a scary thing every time because until you do, you never know for sure how someone’s gonna react.”

“I know you were mostly saying that to me,” Steve started softly. “And you’re right. I don’t understand.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Mostly I don’t understand how people still believe I won’t understand anything other than cishet.” He smirked at the surprised look Peter gave him. “Peter, I was one of the first people given HRT. I was also one of the first people to have top and bottom surgery, and thank God the serum took away those scars.” He shook his head at the memory. “A lot more people will understand than you think.”

Peter blinked. “Okay, so that explains the cis side.” Steve started to grin as he understood what Peter was getting at. “How about the het side?”

Steve couldn’t help the chuckle, “Let me call someone first, and I’ll get back to you,” he said, pulling out his phone. “It’s as much their decision as it is mine.” He held the phone to his ear and smiled at Peter as he waited. “Hey,” he said when the other person picked up. “I kinda halfway outed myself and was wondering if I could out you to a mutual friend.”

He pulled the phone down for a second and addressed Peter. “Can I tell them who you are?” Peter shrugged and nodded, so he smiled and held the phone back up. “Peter.” A small laugh, “Yeah, Parker. Do we know a different Peter?” He laughed again, and his eyes went soft. “Yeah, okay. I love you too.”

He put the phone away and fully turned to Peter again. “I’m the kind of trans who never actually hated my dead name. I had a boyfriend who’d call me Stevie, because my name was Stephanie and I acted more like a boy than a girl, which makes sense in hindsight. The first time he called me Stevie after surgery, I cried, because I knew that meant he loved me for me, not just when I was Stephanie.”

Peter blinked. “Wait, so you’re saying you’re dating Bucky?”

Steve just smiled at him. “Know anyone else who calls me Stevie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so fromstarttofin was kind enough to critique the only other trans!Peter fic I have (where it’s actually said that he’s trans) and, as a cis person, I wasn’t aware that trans... don’t like other people knowing their dead names. Whoops! I’m gonna go out on a limb here and hope that’s *most* trans, not *all,* because otherwise this story doesn’t make much sense; it’s kind of built around the fact that Steve was okay with his. Make sense? But if it offends someone, let me know!!! I’ll find a way to change it!!!


	13. Spider-Nerd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came to me last night with the sentence “Peter Parker was a nerd” and the idea about the car. I don’t know how it turned into this, but enjoy!
> 
> Also I can’t title and we know this. Ignore my pathetic attempts, please.

Peter Parker was a nerd.

This was not new information. Anyone who’d known him for longer than a minute could attest to that fact.

Peter Parker was currently a nerd who had Tony Stark’s car.

* * *

“I can’t take your car!”

“Sure you can,” Tony’d argued. “Why not? Establish some of that street cred you so desperately need.”

Peter had looked at him, unimpressed. “I’m Spider-Man.”

“Good to know you’re not still concussed from that last hit, but that has nothing to do with the current conversation.”

Peter had sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Listen, I’ll just take her on the subway. It’s not that big of a deal. It’s New York, everyone takes the subway.”

“Everyone except you.” Tony had tossed him the keys to one of his cars. “It’s not flashy,” he’d promised as Peter had inspected them. “Actually, this is the same car that I used to take Pepper out in the first time we went on a date. Consider it a good luck charm that you can drive.”

“I-” he’d taken a breath and considered, instead of finishing the sentence. “Thank you, Tony.”

“No problem, kid. Now go out there and show her a good time. Oh, and there are condoms in the-”

“Nope! No, no, no, not listening to you! Thanks for the car, bye!”

* * *

“Hi, MJ,” he breathed. “Wow. You look really nice.”

She looked like she wanted to say something sarcastic, but instead said, “Thanks.”

Peter leaned back onto the door of the car, and as soon as he did, music started playing. He jumped back from the car and the music switched to something suave. If he weren’t so freaked out, he would’ve compared it to the scene in Megamind where Minion had the boombox.

He could feel his cheeks turning red as he stuttered out an apology. “I don’t know what’s happening... Tony let me borrow it and he swore it wasn’t flashy but I guess I should’ve known he meant _his_ flashy, not _my_ flashy, and... basically I’m really sorry and I’m not really sure how to make it stop.” He offered her his best smile despite the circumstances and opened the door he had been leaning on for her.

Immediately the music shut off.

“Huh,” Peter said, intrigued, and turned to MJ. “Okay, so I figured it out.”

She snorted at him and got in the car. “Thanks, nerd.”

“You’re welcome,” he chirped, closing her door and running over to the driver’s side. “Okay,” he said as he slid into his seat. “I was thinking dinner then fro-yo. Sound good?”

“Sure.” She smiled at him as he put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb.

Dinner was a quiet affair—hot dogs from a stand he’d seen while on patrol—and they set out soon after to find a good self-serve place. It was close to a small park, and Peter pointed it out to her hopefully. She nodded and he grinned the entire time they were getting their desserts.

“I’m just saying,” he waved his spoon around to punctuate his sentence, “there’s no reason to think-” he stopped suddenly and held out his hand to stop her.

“Peter?” She whispered.

“Mugging,” he answered, face grim. “But I’m on a date with you. I’ll stay.”

“You’re a self-sacrificing, noble idiot of a dork.” She kissed his forehead and took his frozen yogurt cup. “Go on. Five minutes. I’ll be waiting back at the fro-yo place.”

“You’re the best,” he told her seriously, giving her a quick hug before sprinting off. “I’ll be quick, promise!”

“Don’t be quick, be safe!”

“That too!” As he got into the trees, he jumped and grabbed onto a branch, swinging himself up to sit against the trunk and pull on his mask, webshooters and gloves.

“Hey,” he called as he neared the area. “Are you guys here for the convention, too? Oh... oh, wait...” he looked around, “this isn’t the convention center! This is a mugging!”

“Back off, man,” Idiot Number One said, brandishing a knife.

“Ooh, shiny! Lemme see!” He webbed it from the guy’s hand and stuck it to the nearest tree, high enough they couldn’t reach it. “This’ll go perfectly in my collection!”

“You’re crazy,” Idiot Number Two said, pulling out a gun.

“Uh-oh,” Peter said, having far too much fun. “That’s a gun. I don’t like guns.” He shot a strand of webbing onto the muzzle then yanked, tearing it from Idiot Number Two’s hand.

Idiot Number One tried to sneak behind him. Peter sighed and stuck him to a tree. “Listen, this is fun and all, but I’m kinda busy, so do you guys mind if I just call the cops and have them come get you? No? Perfect!” He webbed Idiot Number Two to another tree and approached the woman they were harassing. “Are you alright, ma’am?” He asked, offering her a hand up.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you. I didn’t realize you watched over this neighborhood, too.”

He shrugged, internally panicking. “I was around. Allow me to escort you back to someplace well-lit where you can call a taxi home.” He offered her his arm, elbow crooked, but she declined. “Thank you, but I was actually over here for a reason. I’m a zoologist, and I’m trying to study the nocturnal lizards that live in the parks around here.”

“I see,” he nodded. “In that case, could I suggest pepper spray?”

“That might be a good thing to invest in,” she agreed with a slight laugh. “Thanks again, Spider-Man. I’ll see you around.”

“Yes ma’am!” He saluted her and walked into the trees, whistling. He stopped at the same tree to take off his mask, gloves and webshooters, then swung down and ran back to MJ.

“Took you long enough,” she teased, but he could sense the undercurrent of fear.

“Sorry. Seriously though, you’re the absolute best for knowing me. It was a mugging, like I said, and these two guys were trying to do God-knows-what to this zoologist woman who’s studying the nocturnal lizards in the park. Oh!” He pulled out his phone and gave MJ an apologetic look. “Hey Nat. You know Lincoln Park? No... no, like the actual park. Not the band. Spelled completely different. Okay, you know where the trail splits off in two different directions? Yeah. Yeah, exactly. Well I just stopped a potential mugging there, about two minutes south of the split. I thought you might want to know. Yeah, she’s a zoologist! Exactly. Awesome. Thanks Nat! Love you too, bye!”

He grinned at his date as he pocketed his phone. “Imagine their surprise when Nat shows up instead of the cops.”

She gave him a wan smile, and his immediately dropped. “I shouldn’t have gone, should I? I knew it. MJ, it’s okay for you to be selfish sometimes and tell me not to. In fact, I offered to stay and you said no.”

“I know,” she stopped him. “I did. Because I know you, and I know how you are. This would’ve eaten at you for the rest of the night and we both know it. It’s gonna take some getting used to, but don’t you dare think that’s scaring me off, Parker.” She looked him in the eyes. “I’m in this for the long haul, you got me? You can’t scare me off. So go do what you have to. Just come back safe at the end of it. That’s all I’m asking.”

“You know it won’t be that simple sometimes. Toomes dropped a building on me. Steve dropped a hangar on me in Germany. I went to space and died, then came back. I can’t promise you I’ll come back unscathed. But I can, and I will, promise you that I’ll always come back.”

“That’s good enough for me,” she said with a small smile, and pulled him in.

* * *

Peter Parker was a nerd.

He was a nerd with an extremely attractive, uber-understanding girlfriend.

And he couldn’t be happier.


	14. If I Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For snarkymuch; prompt “Well I guess I can cross that off the bucket list.” “Who has getting stabbed by an umbrella on their bucket list?” “I’m sorry my list isn’t up to your all-American standards.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, snarks! Hope you like it!! Set kind of mid-war; slight AU in the fact that Steve and Bucky are together (blink-and-you-miss-it, but they are) and they’re back in Brooklyn, with Peggy. They just can’t seem to stay out of trouble!
> 
> Also... title is from a Taylor Swift song. I can’t remember the title but the lyrics are “It would be a fine proposition, if I was a stupid girl.” No, I don’t know why it’s stuck in my head, and no, I don’t know why I used it for the title.
> 
> ALSO also.... Peggy because I love her. (Who can tell I recently got Disney+ and am watching Agent Carter?)

Bucky panted as he raced down the alley. He could hear his partner just behind him. He smiled, knowing the man could easily overtake him, but chose to stay behind to protect his six.

Bucky kind of wanted to punch him for having no sense of self-preservation.

Shaking off the thoughts, he grinned and poured on speed as they approached a familiar building. “Here?” He asked, motioning to the red and blue sign.

“Sure,” Steve agreed, catching up to him with a few quick strides. “I hope she’s home.”

“I kinda hope she’s not. You know what she’ll do to us if we barge in on her with some less-than-friends in tow?”

“Shit.”

“Exactly.” He grinned at his best friend. “You go first.”

“I hate you,” he announced, and Bucky stuck his tongue out in response. Steve snorted. “Real mature.”

“Yeah, cause that’s something you definitely are.”

“Oh, shuddup.” They bounded up the stairs and Steve knocked, waited for roughly half a second, and then forced the door open.

“Dammit, Steve, patience! We don’t have the money to replace her door!”

“It wouldn’t need a new door, just maybe a new lock, and anyways it’s fine. If you’re so upset about it, then you fix it while I find Peggs.”

Less than a minute later, he was racing down the hall after hearing Steve bite off a yell. “What the hell did you _do,_ you idiot? Swear to god, I leave you alone for-” he stopped in shock at the scene in front of him, then grinned nervously. “Hi, Peggy.”

“James,” she nodded, then looked Steve over. “You know better by now than to startle me, you bloody idiot. Come on, let’s fetch you a rag.” She sighed and stepped past them, motioning for Steve to follow.

Clutching a bloodied umbrella and his abdomen, Steve meekly followed. “You don’t want to know,” he said in answer to Bucky’s unasked question, and Bucky couldn’t help it.

He laughed. “I already know, you dumbass. How deep?”

Steve made a noncommittal noise, “Not awful. Maybe could use a stitch or two just to be sure, but I’ll slap a bandage on it and I’ll be fine.” He began to chuckle. “Well, I guess I can scratch that off the bucket list.”

Bucky just stared at him. “Who in the hell has getting _stabbed by an umbrella_ on their bucket list?”

Steve sniffed and raised his head haughtily. “Well I’m sorry my list isn’t up to your all-American standards.”

That was a joke they had, making fun of the typical American dream; ever since Steve had become Captain America and they’d realized how poor a fit for the position he was, they had far too much fun with it. He chuckled at the bad joke, then stared him down. “I can’t tell if I should be sorry for you, or let Peggy take over. You kind of deserve it.”

“Any backseat surgery and you’re leaving the room,” Peggy announced from the front of their little procession, and Bucky smirked and shrugged as Steve paled.

“Sorry, pal. Lady’s spoken. I know my place.” He grinned, “‘Sides, I get you after. I’ll have a buncha time to think of something else to be mad at you about by then.”

“Leave me alone with her in there and you’re sleeping on your own for a week.” He smirked at the look of shock Bucky turned on him. “Sorry, pal, you brought it upon yourself. Two can play at that game.”

“Fucker,” he murmured, quietly enough Peggy couldn’t hear him, but Steve had the gall to laugh at him.

“Tough luck. Just come in and stay silent.”

“Boys,” Peggy called, and that was the end of it as they hurried to do as she said.


	15. Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky fight. Domestically. Things are revealed along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this has been sitting in my drafts for like.... a year. I added roughly 5 sentences & said “ok great ready for posting” 😂
> 
> ALSO, to those of you waiting for the next chap of PBTD: it’s coming, I swear!! I have up to chapter 20 ready, and I’m writing 21. I just need to... y’know... actually post them. 😅 I might post the next chap after I post this one... 😉

“I’m a fucking _murderer,_ Steve,” he said, low, controlled.

“Is that how you see yourself?” Steve growled back. “As a _murderer?_ Never mind the fact you saved my goddamn life. I didn’t-” he cut himself off and turned away, paced the length of the couch. “A murderer,” he repeated, with a disbelieving laugh. “Christ.”

“‘S all I am,” Bucky said quietly, accepting the inevitable he had already known was coming. “Howard. Maria. Fucking John F. Kennedy. You, almost.” He shook his head, purposely looked away. “You can’t change it.”

“The hell I can’t,” Steve growled, but it sounded off. “You wanna know something? You really wanna know?” He came up in front of Bucky, made him look, and he was surprised to see tears forming in the blue. “You wanna know how the Valkyrie was my fucking suicide note ‘cause I lost you? You wanna know how I didn’t take a goddamn breath until I saw you on the bridge? You wanna know how I didn’t have a fucking heartbeat until the helicarrier? Fine. Know. _Then_ decide what you are. I,” he said, and pushed Bucky’s chest. “Am not,” another push. “Losing you,” another, “again.” A final push, bigger than the rest, and Bucky stumbled back, then stepped forward again, into Steve’s space, fearless.

“You shut your goddamn mouth,” he snarled, snatching at Steve’s bicep with his left hand and squeezing slightly, a warning more than anything else.

“Or what?” Steve pushed, like he always did, and Bucky growled, but Steve never learned how to back down. “Or what, Buck? What’re you gonna do to me?” He tore away from his grasp and stepped around him. “What can you do to me that I haven’t already done to myself?” He asked, so quietly, so sadly, that Bucky’s heart dropped, like the tears he saw falling from Steve’s eyes. “Do your worst,” he whispered. “I promise you it’s nothing compared to what I’ve done.” He paced the floor, not meeting Bucky’s eyes. “I’ve literally killed myself. And I don’t mean once. Every damn day since you fell, before I saw you on the bridge, I was killing myself. Every damn day. And no one knew. Because I went through the motions. No one sees, anymore, who you really are, what you’re really made of. They don’t even see what you do. They see how well you do it. And I did a damn good job of goin’ through the motions, and you know what?” He whirled back around to face Bucky, eyes blazing. “It killed me. Every damn day it killed me.”

If Steve’s eyes were fire, Bucky’s were lava, were brimstone, were just barely concealed rage. “You think,” he started, paused to control himself. “You think I don’t know how fucking hard it is when everything in you is screaming that the better option, the easier option, would be to put a fucking bullet in your brain? You think I don’t know? Pal,” he spit out, “you just described the last seventy years that was the hell I knew as life. So go on. Take a swing at me. It won’t hurt any more than anything they did to me.”

Steve yelled, feral as a tomcat, and lunged at him. Bucky tensed, ready for it, and pushed him away.

“Fight back,” he whispered, demanded, failed to hold the sob in. “Fight _back!_ ”

“Why?” Bucky yelled back. “I’ve spent my life fighting, Steve. I’m done. I fought because of you. _For_ you. It was never my fight. I’m done.”

“Then why’d you say yes?” He demanded. “All those times you said yes. It wasn’t ever your fight. Why?”

Bucky dropped his hands, sat on the couch, and hung his head. He shook it before murmuring, “It was your fight.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t.” He huffed out a miserable laugh. “Steve, I never wanted to fight. I always fought for you because you were the one good thing in my life, and like _hell_ I was gonna let you get taken away from me.”

“Then,” Steve said, voice small, “Why’d you _stay_ away? You _chose_ to stay frozen in Wakanda. No one was making you.”

“Weren’t they?” Bucky smiled humorlessly. “Wasn’t I forced to stay away, for the safety of the world?”

“Not forever,” Steve argued. “Never forever. I wouldn’t-” he gulped, “I wouldn’t survive that.”

“You’d survive anything.”

“Not that,” Steve shook his head. “I didn’t last time. Didn’t you hear what I said? Last time you were forced away from me, I didn’t survive it.”

“Well,” Bucky said carefully, and sat on the edge of the couch. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m not leavin’ anytime soon, then.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, because he didn’t know what else to say, not when his heart was so close to breaking. He sat, too, and worked through a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry.” Bucky just hummed. “I am. I just...” He ran trembling hands through his hair. “I wanted us to be the same as we were. But we’re not even the same people anymore, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Who said it was broken?” Bucky countered, then froze. “Wait. How much have I told you I remembered?”

Steve shrugged, “You never mentioned it, I just figured you remembered enough to know who you were and who I was, maybe a bit beyond that.”

“Shit,” Bucky said, then again as he stood and began to pace. “Stevie,” He started, clearing his throat when his voice cracked. “I remember everything.”

Steve’s eyes closed and he gulped. “I’m sorry.” He shook his head, “You never should’ve gone through what you did.”

Bucky blinked, thrown off topic. “Well, no, but that’s not what I mean.” He grabbed Steve’s hands and pulled him up. “Steve,” he said again, intertwining their fingers, “I remember everything.” He watched as understanding dawned in Steve’s eyes, and he gripped Bucky’s fingers tighter.

“You do?” It was barely more than a whisper.

“I do,” he confirmed, smiling when all Steve could do was gape at him. “C’mere,” he finally said, pulling the blond into a hug. He bit back a sob and shivered, causing Bucky to hug him tighter.

“God, Buck,” he got out, broken, and Bucky shushed him.

“I know, Stevie. God, I’m so sorry. I’m here, I swear.” He pulled back to place a finger under Steve’s chin and lift. “Till the end of the line, right?”

“Till the end of the line.” Steve agreed, and leaned into the kiss.


	16. Until You Believe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thanks to Bbblaney77 for the prompt! Mama spider and baby spider fluff and cuddles, my favorite! Hope this delivers...

He carefully approached the couch she was laying on, eyes closed and arm thrown over her forehead. "Nat?"

She hummed, moving slightly and opening her eyes. "Hey, kiddo, what's going on?"

"Are you okay?"

She moved the arm to prop her head up and smiled at him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He sat on the edge of the couch, hip touching hers, and gave her a look. "Because I'd like to think I know you better than that."

She smiled sadly at him. "This isn't something you can fix, _rebenok pauk._ Sorry to disappoint you."

"I never said I could _fix_ it. But I can listen and I can give you all the hugs you want."

She sighed and regarded him for long enough he started to fidget. "I'm starting to see why you remind me so much of Steve. You're both stubborn." He just chuckled, so she sat up and hugged her legs to her, toes brushing Peter's thigh. He was starting to learn she needed contact she didn't know how to ask for, so he dropped a hand and curled it around her ankle, squeezing slightly. She gave him a slight smile, then her eyes slid to the middle distance and her face went carefully blank.

Peter held on just that little bit tighter.

"You know my story. At least some of it. I was born in Russia in 1946. As part of the Black Widow program, when I graduated, I was injected with a serum not unlike Steve and Bucky's, though I'm assuming it's more similar to Bucky's. There are days I don't feel like this body is my own, like the serum I was given was more curse than blessing, though I wouldn't trade what I have now for the world. I've cheated death so many times and some days I don't know why I'm still here. I don't feel like myself. I feel like I should still be twelve, before I was... well, before I was as violated as I feel now." She looked at him and swallowed hard. "You sure you want to hear this?"

He wasn't at all sure, but he pushed it down and looked steadily at her. She needed him. "I want to hear what you want to tell me."

She nodded and let her eyes slide back into that middle distance. "After my... well, for lack of a better word, my graduation, they performed surgery on me. Made it so I can't have kids, because in their eyes, family ties are weak. I never even knew my parents. Never knew if I had any siblings. The only people my age I interacted with, we fought. And I won, because I saw what happened if I didn't, and if there's one thing they taught me, it's fear. I never wanted that to happen. So I won every time." She gulps and takes a few breaths before continuing. "So after I graduated, after I was the only one left standing, they strapped me to a table, put me under, and when I woke up, they told me I was _complete._ " She spit the word and shook her head. "I never asked for any of this. And I feel selfish for being glad to have what I do now."

"Why?" he asked, voice small but strong.

"Honestly? I don't know. Probably something to do with the fact that it came from all that pain. Pain and suffering begets pain and suffering. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, because nothing good ever lasts." She finally looks at him, actually sees him, and her face softens. "I'm sorry, Peter. You didn't ask for all that. And that was extremely cynical. I know better."

"You're having a bad day, it's okay," he assured her. "It doesn't matter what you know when everything you are is screaming that you're wrong."

She looked at him, lips quirked. "Has anyone ever told you you're wise beyond your years?"

He just grinned at her, knowing she would understand his humor. "Nah, just depressed." It got the chuckle he was looking for, and he continued. "I know I don't completely understand, but I feel the same way sometimes about the spider bite. Like the gods decided hey, this kid's life is screwed up, let's screw it up even more!" He shrugged and leaned back, looking more relaxed than he actually was. "It's just one of those things you've gotta tell yourself you know until you actually believe it, y'know what I mean? You didn't deserve what happened to you, but the other shoe already dropped, and you're past all that now. You've just gotta remember that."

She shifted until they were touching shoulder-to-shoulder and nudged him gently. "You're right. Pretend to watch _Blue Planet_ with me until one of us falls asleep?"

"I'd love to," he chuckled, snaking an arm behind her back and turning to face her more so his other arm could rest across her stomach. "Jarvis?"

The TV flicked on, and he smiled at Natasha's coo when the screen filled with penguins.

He'd been up late the night before, homework, patrol and lab all vying for attention, so he wasn't too surprised when he was awakened a few hours later. "Peter," she murmured, running a hand over his head.

He hummed and leaned onto her even more. "Keep doing that and I'll fall asleep again."

She chuckled, and the hand was replaced with a kiss on the forehead. "C'mon, it's been a few hours. Pepper's here with food for everyone, and I know you're hungry."

He frowned, keeping his eyes closed. "Am not."

His stomach rumbled, and he peeked an eye open and frowned even harder. "Traitor."

She just laughed and pushed him until he was sitting up on his own. "C'mon. She brought Italian."

He hummed and smirked at her. "I guess I could be persuaded."

She laughed, and he smiled to himself. _Mission accomplished._

* * *

Later that night, he felt uneasy about going to bed, but shrugged it off and burrowed under his covers.

He didn't expect _that_ nightmare tonight. 

He awakened gasping and wiped the tears off his face, groaning as he pushed his face into his pillow. The sob bubbled up, unwarranted, and suddenly he couldn't stop, just kept sobbing, curling up on his side.

The dip in the bed startled him, and he tensed until the familiar scent of jasmine that he associated with Natasha wafted towards him. He relaxed somewhat, still crying, and she continued to slide into his bed, holding him as he cried.

In a burst of energy, he flipped over and hugged her back, crying into her neck. "They're dead and I couldn't do anything about it."

"I'm so sorry, Peter," she said softly, carding a hand through his hair. "I know it's hard."

"I could've stopped it."

"No, Peter, you need to stop thinking that way, okay? You didn't know. You didn't have control over your powers yet. I know you're upset, but you did the right thing."

"But he's _dead!_ And I could've stopped it!"

"Maybe," she agreed gently. "But at what cost? Could you have saved May? It's not your fault, Peter. You didn't know. This is one of the things you have to tell yourself until you believe it. Would it help if I told you?"

Sobs subsiding into softer cries now, he shrugged. "I dunno."

"Can I try?" He shrugged and burrowed closer to her, and she held him tighter, whispering into his ear. "It's not your fault. You did all you could. You didn't know any better, and that's not on you. You're a good person doing good things. You're the best of us all, Peter, and we're so lucky to know you."

She continued whispering until the tears dried up and he was left breathing, albeit slightly unevenly. "Any better?" She asked, and he shrugged, then nodded, then shrugged again. "Want me to stay here?" He tightened around her, and she hushed him. "It's okay. I'll be here long as you need me, okay?" She pressed a kiss to his forehead, and he nodded, letting out the last of the tension in a sigh and drifting off to sleep.

He awakened to Natasha shifting, and he smiled as he rolled over to face her. "Thanks, Nat."

She smiled at him, albeit slightly strained. "Any time. I'll be right back, okay?" He agreed, albeit confused, then laughed when she ran to the attached bathroom. "You could've gotten up if you needed to before!"

"Not a chance!" She called back, and he laughed when she walked back in with a satisfied sigh. She grinned and looked at him, hands on her hips. "How do you feel about pancakes?"

He grinned back, rolling to sit up and face her. "Only if they've got chocolate chips."


	17. Milkshake Mishaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Complete crack; AU where Steve works at an ice cream shop, Bucky works at Nordstrom’s, and they meet. Both Karen stories are taken from Reddit because I have no original ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y’all like it!! As I said both the stories were taken from Reddit, and I *wanted* to put in my own (seriously lady, you’re spending upwards of $500 and want a discount on a $100 purse bc it’s scratched up bc it’s SUPPOSED to be scratched up?!?) but there wasn’t really room. Anyways. Boys being soft is my favorite, Sam is the best, as always, and I want Natasha to marry me, please. Also Peggy is Steve’s sister for some reason. Don’t judge me.

“I’ll be with you in just a second, ma’am,” Steve said, trying his best to give her an I-love-my-job smile, and not an I-want-to-rip-your-head-off smile. The difference was a fine line he was quickly approaching.

“Strawberry milkshake,” she said, not looking up from her phone.

“Just one second,” he said again, smile veering dangerously close to the latter. He turned toward the back and motioned for Sam to come help him. “Milkshake machine’s on the fritz again. Karen over here wants a strawberry milkshake right this very second, and we’ve got that party coming in at two.”

“I gotcha,” Sam said, clapping Steve’s shoulder as he passed.

Steve focused back on the machine and cursed underneath his breath. “The hell is Nick when you need him?”

“Speak and he shall appear,” Sam reminded him. “So maybe don’t speak because I don’t want to have to deal with everything today.”

“Sorry man,” Steve apologized. “Just not happy Bessie decided to quit today. Almost sounds like there’s a clog somewhere.”

“Should we turn it off?”

“Nah, I’m sure it’s-”

Bessie the milkshake machine exploded. Bubblegum-pink slushy liquid poured out of every imaginable crevice.

Steve splurted as he took a hit directly to the face. Sam stared, wide-eyed, at the mess before somehow not laughing while he turned to the Karen. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, but unfortunately, our milkshake machine is not currently working. I’d be happy to serve you something else, or give you a store credit so you can come back later.”

Karen did what all Karens do, and went ballistic. “No! I _want_ a strawberry milkshake and I’m gonna _get_ a strawberry milkshake! What happened to the customer is always right? You are the worst servers ever!” She typed angrily on her phone. “I’m getting the management’s number right now. You’ll never work anywhere of any importance if I have any say in the matter.”

“Ma’am, their machine is broken. He looks like Princess Peach. No offense,” the random guy said aside to Steve, who shrugged. He was very pink. “So I suggest you take whatever beef you have with them outside. Far, far away. Like, maybe to the next _state_ far away. None of this is their fault and it’s people like you who make us hate our jobs.”

Random Guy then jumped the counter and grabbed towels to help Steve staunch the flow. “I’m calling management and I’m having you all fired!” Karen shrieked.

Random Guy chuckled and muttered to Steve, “I’m shaking in my custom baby seal leather boots.” Then, to the woman, “I’d like to see you try. I don’t work here.”

Steve snorted. “ _Megamind_? Really?”

He just grinned. “It was applicable and got you to laugh. Are you really complaining?”

“I guess not,” Steve allowed, still chuckling. “I’m Steve.”

“Bucky.”

“Thanks for standing up for us. And for helping, that’s way above and beyond what I thought anyone would do.”

“It’s called being a decent human being, and anyways, I work at Nordstrom over off 5th. I’ve been dying to say that. It’s therapeutic, you should come over and scream at my customers.” He grinned at Steve.

“It would be my genuine pleasure, just as soon as I don’t look like a faded Kool-Aid man.”

Bucky snorted. “Got a change of clothes anywhere near?”

“Yes, because I always get puked on by the milkshake machine,” Steve snarked, then sighed. “I live twenty minutes away and there’s no way in hell I’m getting in my car smelling like the strawberry section of Bath and Body Works. I’ll make do, I guess.”

“You live alone?”

“Nah, I have a roommate, but she’d just laugh and hang up on me if I asked her to bring me clothes. She works nights so right now is like one in the morning for her.” He caught Bucky’s concerned look. “She’s fine. We’re great. But she’s not getting out of bed unless there’s an emergency, and this doesn’t qualify.”

“I could go grab you a change of clothes?”

“That’s like, an hour out of your day. Plus there’s no telling what Nat would do to you if she found you in our apartment. It’s fine, I’ll deal.”

“Wait.” Bucky looked at Steve seriously. “Five foot three Nat, red hair, puts the fear of women into you by glancing your way?”

Steve blinked. “You know her?”

Bucky laughed and pulled out his phone. “Yeah. Hang on, I’ll get her down here. You know she could be here in ten minutes, right?”

“I’d rather she not drive sleep-deprived.”

“She’s not. It’s thirty percent an act.” He held up a finger as Steve started to speak again. “Nat? Hey. Yeah, I know, I’m sorry. I’m at the shop with Steve and the milkshake machine exploded. He looks like a bubblegum lollipop and he needs a change of clothes.” He listened for a few minutes, then sighed. “Yeah, okay. See you in twenty. Unlock the door.” He listened for a moment more, then sighed. “She hung up on me.” He held a hand out. “Keys. I’m getting you clothes. She won’t get up.”

Steve tried to hide the smug part of his smile. “I did try to tell you.”

“Yeah, well.” He wiggled his fingers. “Keys, c’mon. You can’t go anywhere looking like that.”

Steve chuckled and dug his keys out of his pocket. “Anything will do. And you know Nat, she’ll get up for a fashion emergency.” He rolled his eyes and smiled at Bucky.

Bucky chuckled and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Not to sound cocky or anything, but I don’t think I’ll need help. Unless you don’t like the way I dress, that is.”

“Right,” Steve nodded. “Nordstrom. Can’t promise I’ll have any good clothes but I’m excited to see what you can come up with.”

Bucky raised his brows. “Is that a challenge?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“If you take it.”

Bucky grinned. “You’re on. I’ll be back in an hour.”

He walked out, and Steve found Sam looking at him. “What?”

“You like him.”

“No shit, Sherlock. Don’t you have people to help?”

“Nope.” He popped the p and leaned back on the counter. “You gonna do something about it?”

“Maybe. Should I?”

“What’s the worst that could happen, a great lay? C’mon dude, it’s been forever. The fact that I know that is sad.”

Steve flipped him off. “He’s just helping me.”

Sam stared at him, crossing his arms. “He barely looked at me. He’s going an hour out of his way to get you clothes. You know Nat would’ve gotten out of bed if you bothered her enough. If he knows Nat as well as it seems like he does, he knows it, too.”

Steve busied himself with cleaning the milkshake machine. “Yeah, well. Sometimes...” he shook his head with a sigh and fell silent.

“Listen, man, I know you’re still sore about Kenny, but-”

“Look, can we just drop it?” He rested a hand on the metal sheet that made up the front of the machine and sighed, dropping his head. “I just... I wanna be done with today. I don’t want to talk about Kenny. I don’t want to think about what just happened or what could happen. I want today to be over.”

Sam regarded him. “Give me the rag.” Steve turned surprised brows on him. “Give it. Go sit in the back and breathe for a couple minutes. I’m sorry I pushed, I didn’t know today was like that for you. Next time, tell me, okay?”

Steve sighed. “I’ll try.”

Sam smiled at him. “There you are. You can come back out when Bucky gets here.”

Steve raised his brows and went for a smile. “Am I in time out?”

“We both know you won’t be able to handle the party that’s coming in ten minutes. I’ve got it. Go sit, scroll through Instagram, whatever. Chill. I’ve got it. If I don’t, I’ll call you out here.”

“You’re sure? I can-”

“Steve. Look at yourself. And then think about how you’re feeling. I’ve known you long enough to know what happens when you repress.”

Steve considered him. “What’re you in school for again?”

“Law.”

“You should look into psychiatry or therapy. You’d be good.”

“Hell yeah I would but we’re not talking about me right now. We’re talking about you and how you’re feeling. Tell me honestly you could work the party.” He crossed his arms and waited, and Steve sighed.

“Fine. I’ll go sit in the back.”

“Good. I’ll let you know when he’s here.” Sam smiled and clapped him on the shoulder as he passed.

* * *

Bucky absentmindedly tapped his steering wheel to the beat of the song on the radio as he thought. Was Steve cute? Sure he was. Did he have a body like Adonis? Sure he did. Did he look like he could bench Bucky? And then some. Was he also extremely nice? Exceedingly so. Did Bucky like him?

Hard yes.

But that wasn’t why he was doing this. Of course not. He wanted to see Nat, was all. Plus it came with the added bonus of seeing where she lived finally. And now he knew why she gave him her address—in case of emergency, she said with a glare that dared him to try her—but never allowed him to come over.

That beared thinking about. If Nat knows all, why would she not want Steve and Bucky to meet? She had to know it would happen eventually.

Anyways.

He turned onto Steve’s street and slowed, looking for his apartment building. It was a residential area, mostly houses and apartments with a random Walmart here and there, and it was nice. Cozy.

He turned into the parking lot for the apartments and sat in his car for a minute, trying to figure out which building he needed to get to. Silently cursing, he pulled out his phone. “Nat? Help.”

“With?” She sounded done with all of life, and Bucky could sympathize.

“What building are you in?”

She yawned. “Far right. Twelve. Second floor. Twelve twenty-four.”

“Twelve twenty-four, got it. Is the door unlocked?”

She grumbled and cursed at him in Russian. “You know I can understand you.”

“Yeah, and I meant what I said.”

“You know I’m not actually _from_ Russia, right? Those idioms just sound weird.”

“Fuck off.”

“Soon as I get Steve some new clothes. I’ll be up in less than two minutes.”

“I hate you,” she informed him.

“I’m well aware. I just need clothes for Steve. You can go back to bed as soon as I leave and I promise no one will bother you for another six hours.”

She groaned. “Steve’s shift ends in three.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to distract him for another three. Coming in.” He ended the call and opened the door, grinning as he saw her slumped on the couch. “Hey, Nat. Sorry for waking you.”

“No you’re not, asshole,” she grumbled. “Get outta here.”

“Almost. Steve’s room?”

She pointed to a door down the hall and groaned, flopping over onto the arm of the couch. “I’m going to kill every single one of you.”

“That’s sweet,” Bucky murmured absentmindedly, walking towards Steve’s room. He found clothes rather quickly, opting to choose a plain red v-neck, black jeans, and a denim jacket. On second thought, he put the jacket back. If Steve had a jacket at work, he hadn’t been wearing it when Bucky got there.

He tried to remember if Steve’s shoes had gotten any on them. He did remember the Converse logo, and internally shrugged. Steve could always just wash off his shoes. He glanced around for anything else he should bring and was unable to find anything. Still...

He walked back out to the living room and held his hand out, palm up. “Phone.”

“Why?”

“I want Steve’s number.”

She sighed and held out her unlocked phone. “Hurry _up_.”

“Just a couple more minutes,” he promised her, bringing his phone to his ear and handing hers back.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Steve! Is there anything you want besides a change of clothes? Fair warning, Nat might actually murder you if you wake her up, so I’m taking you out for a few hours after work.”

Steve chuckled a sigh. “I think I’m good. I’d like a shower, but I know there’s no way to do that without going home, so.”

Bucky chuckled. “I might have a way. I’ll be there in twenty minutes, okay?”

“Alright. See you.”

They hung up and Bucky pocketed his phone and grabbed the clothes. “Thanks, Nat.” He kissed her cheek. “You’re the best. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, but couldn’t hide the smile.

He grinned as he walked out and back to his car, whistling a random song. He was genuinely happy, for some reason, even doing random things for this random guy he’d met that day. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t know how to feel about it. He didn’t really care either way; he was happy and that was good enough for him.

Back in the car, the radio came on again, and he sang along as he drove back to the shop.

He got there in what felt like record time and smiled at Sam as he walked in. “Is he in the back?”

“Yeah, go on.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder and grinned at Bucky before turning back to the people he was helping.

He returned the grin and walked behind the counter for the second time that day, this time going all the way to the back. He smiled as Steve came into view, but Steve didn’t notice him. He was about to say something when he realized Steve was on the phone. “Yeah, I know, it’s just...” he sighed. “You know about Kenny, about what happened, and-” another sigh. “Exactly. And it’s just...” he switched to another language, seemingly explaining himself, before chuckling and switching back to English. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Pegs. Love you, too. Bye.”

With that, he hung up and let out a little sigh, regarding his phone.

Bucky cleared his throat and Steve whirled around, a smile forming when he realized it was Bucky. “Hey. That was fast.”

Bucky shrugged and handed over the clothes. “What language was that?”

“Ah.” Steve colored a bit. “Gaelic. Peggy is my sister. Well, half-sister, but we’ve known each other our whole lives.”

“That’s cool,” Bucky nodded. “So, is one of your parents...”

“My mom’s Irish,” Steve nodded. “Dad was American, and my step-dad is English.”

“Was?” Bucky asked, and Steve nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t remember him, and I love my step-dad.” He chuckled, “Besides, Mom told me she mostly married him to get American status so she could leave Ireland.”

“Well, if that’s the reason,” Bucky joked, then re-noticed the pile of clothes. “Uh, I guess I’ll step out so you can change?”

“Sounds good.” Steve smiled thinly. “I should probably get back to work soon, too.”

“Oh, yeah, of course, sorry-”

“No, no, you’re fine. Sam made me sit out, but I can’t use that excuse all day.”

“The hell you can’t,” Sam said, coming in and grabbing more sprinkles. “I clocked you out. Change and get out of here. Take a break. I’ll yell at Clint to come in if I need help.”

“Sam, no, it’s my day to work-”

“Yeah, and I’ve been here longer than you, which gives me seniority. I’m telling you to leave.”

Steve narrowed his eyes at Sam, who shrugged. “Take it or leave it, but you’re already clocked out. If you stay all you’re gonna do is sit back here.”

“Fucker,” Steve muttered.

“Please. You love me.”

“Debatable,” Steve shot back, smiling. “Thanks.”

Sam grinned and turned to the other man. “Bucky, right? C’mon, we’re gonna go distract fifteen twelve-year-olds while Steve changes.”

Bucky chuckled. “It would be my pleasure.” He bowed after Sam, who inclined his head toward Steve as if to say, _See? That’s how it’s done._

Steve waved them off, and they walked back into the main part of the shop. “Alright,” Sam called, grinning at the customers. “Who wants sprinkles?”

“C’n I?” A little girl asked, and Sam grinned at her.

“Of course you can!” He stopped. “Can you tell me your name so I can give you sprinkles?”

She shied away, tilting her chin down to her chest and twining her arms behind her back. Sam glanced up at the parent, who smiled apologetically. “She’s four and very shy.”

Bucky squatted next to her. “What if I tell you my name, and then you tell me your name? Would that work?” He asked softly. She barely glanced up at him. “My name’s Bucky.” She cracked a smile, and he chuckled. “It’s a silly name, huh?”

“My name is Cynt’ia,” she said quietly, smiling shyly at him.

Bucky widened his eyes. “That’s a princess name. Are you a princess?”

“No!” She lost all shyness and looked him in the eyes. “I’m four!” To emphasize, she put her hand up, thumb tucked over her palm, to signify the number.

“Some princesses are four,” Bucky told her seriously. “Are you sure you’re not a princess?”

“No,” she giggled. “I’m jus’ four.”

“Well, okay then, Miss Cynthia. Do you want sprinkles?”

She nodded, smiling at him, and he grinned back. “Of course! My friend Sam is gonna get them for you, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, and moved on to Sam.

Bucky stood, wincing as his knee popped, then smiled sheepishly when he realized Steve was standing there, watching him. “Hey. Ready to go?”

“Ready,” Steve nodded, looking like he wanted to say more but wouldn’t.

“We’re gonna head out,” Bucky said aside to Sam, quietly enough only Sam heard.

“Sounds good. Thanks, man. You’re great with kids.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled. “See you later?”

“You know it,” Sam nodded, shooing them out.

“So where to now?” Steve asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Since I’m guessing I’m not allowed home anytime soon, I’m not sure where to go.”

“Well,” Bucky said, and grinned. “I wasn’t completely joking about you coming to Nordstrom and yelling at my customers. It’s pretty cathartic.”

“Yeah,” Steve chuckled, “I bet it is.”

“Seriously. I’ve got this one lady that comes in every week. Every Tuesday afternoon, like clockwork. She tries on, like, four pairs of shoes and never buys any of them.”

“Oh no,” Steve chuckled. “And you’ve gotta put them away, right?”

“Every single week,” Bucky confirmed, nodding.

Steve grinned. “Maybe she just comes to see you.”

“Fat chance,” Bucky laughed. “She’s married and twice my age, and I’m gay.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked, glancing at him.

“Like any straight dude could work at Nordstrom, honestly.” Bucky scoffed.

Steve hummed. “What is it with society that makes everyone act straight?”

“I mean, I could answer with homophobia, but I have the feeling that’s not what you’re looking for.” He glanced over at Steve with a smirk.

Steve laughed. “Not really.”

Bucky shrugged. “Back to the original question, what do you want to do?”

Steve stopped and looked at him. “You know you don’t have to do this, right? I can go fuck off somewhere on my laptop for a few hours. I honestly wouldn’t mind.”

“Steve, please let me do something nice for someone who isn’t doing so good.”

Steve frowned. “Who said I wasn’t doing good?”

Bucky smiled sadly. “Nobody had to. I can see it. Let me do something nice? Please?”

Steve sighed, but acquiesced. “Alright. How about dinner? I usually end up grabbing a sandwich or something after my shift anyways.”

“Sounds great,” Bucky nodded. “Anyplace you wanna go in particular?”

“Nope. I chose what we’re doing, you get to choose where.”

Bucky sighed. “Fine. Anything you want to eat or don’t like?”

“There’s literally nothing I don’t like.”

Bucky hummed. “Really not trying to make this easy for me, huh? Alright. In’n’Out?”

“Sounds great,” Steve promised. “Whose car?”

Bucky considered it for a second. “Your place is on the way. What if you drop your car off and I can give you a ride?”

Steve sighed, but accepted. “Sure. Thanks.”

“Are you gonna let me be nice to you, or is it always gonna be a fight?”

Steve shrugged. “I just don’t really get why. I’m nobody special.”

“You got pink goo splattered all over you today. You got yelled at by a Karen. Sam knew you weren’t okay.”

“So I’m a charity case.”

“And you’re also nice, sensitive, and really hot.” He grinned sheepishly at Steve, who blinked.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Steve started to grin. “You know, that’s pretty much how I’d describe you. Nice, sensitive, and really hot.”

“Really?”

“Really.”


	18. Ready for Anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha’s a bit shaken up before a mission. Bucky helps her to calm down, and helps Steve realize why she’s acting the way she is. Also, a lot of calling Steve a suicidal lemming. I don’t know why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so as we know I can’t title so... ignore it. Also this was ALMOST a WinterWidow fic but apparently I’m incapable of writing anything other than Stucky? I don’t know. Enjoy anyways!

“I know,” she was saying, when he tuned back in. “But after last night...”

She didn’t often let him, let anyone, see her like this. Worried. “I know,” he soothed. “But... but that was last night. Every day’s a new day. That’s how I’m trying to live.” He offered her a shrug and a smirk. “Not sayin’ it always works, but...”

She smiled at him, though the crease between her brows told him she was still worried. “I don’t like seeing you like that.”

“Nat.” He caught her hand, small in his mismatched ones. He cupped the metal over both, hoping to keep the cold away from her fingers. Based on the tilt of her lips, she knew what he was doing. He wasn’t surprised. “I’ll be fine. I’ll call out if I’m not. But this is a piece of cake, right? In, out, done. Nothing I haven’t done a thousand times before, regardless of who it was for.”

They shared an understanding look at that last line. “Come home safe. That’s all I’m asking.”

“I always will,” he murmured, and squeezed her hand slightly before bending over slightly to kiss her forehead.

“And watch over your idiot boyfriend for me, okay? We both know he’s got the preservation instincts of a suicidal lemming.”

He grinned at her. “Lemmings would be easier.” His grin grew when Steve yelled from across the jet.

“I heard that!”

“Wasn’t a secret!” He called back before turning to face the redhead again. “Keep Clint alive for me so I can yell at him later for being a dumbass.”

“Keep this up and people’ll start to think you’re actually friends.”

“Well I can’t just ignore him. Otherwise he’ll just keep doing dumb crap.”

“Half the reason he does dumb crap is because you give him shit about it later on.”

His grin grew again. “That’s half the reason I keep it up.”

She chuckled softly at that and stepped up to kiss his cheek. “Be safe.”

“You too. I’ll see you in a couple minutes.” He squeezed her hand once more before walking away to have Steve help him check his gear.

“She okay?” Steve checked, busying himself with various straps and buckles.

“A little shaken up, I think. This is her childhood home we’re bombing, after all.” He winced. “Not so tight, please, I’d like to keep my other arm if I’m able.”

“Sorry,” Steve said immediately. “Should she sit out?”

“Yeah, you try and tell her, see how that goes.” He returned the favor for Steve, sticking a couple fingers under straps and tugging slightly. “She’s tough. She’ll make it. And she’s got us, Clint, even Tony. She’ll come back shaken, but she’ll come back. There’s no doubt about that.”

“I just can’t understand why she’d feel bad about it. I heard what happened and I know I haven’t heard the half of it.”

“Ever miss Brooklyn?” Bucky asked suddenly, leading Steve to sit.

He blinked, but thought and answered the question. “I guess.”

“Why?” He continued before Steve could begin to formulate an answer. “There were fights every other day and twice on Sundays. Fights that I had to pull you out of, you suicidal lemming.” He countered the statement by twining their fingers together. “You couldn't breath for shit. Couldn’t see. Couldn’t hardly run. Everything tasted like crap and everything was dirty.” He looked at Steve as he answered. “We romanticize the past. Convince ourselves it wasn’t as bad as it was. Everyone does it. You, me, Natasha. She’s remembering the good things, or what counted as good. There were other girls there, girls her age, that she fought with but also learned and played with. Stole bread with. Faced punishments with.”

Steve sighed. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

“No shit,” Bucky snorted.

“Real eloquent, Buck.”

“Shuddup.” That got Steve to smile.

“Think we should do something for her after?”

“Like what?”

Steve shrugged. “Whatever it is that would help. You’d know more than I would.”

“Knowing her, she’s gonna wanna be left alone. She won’t want to be reminded of it, reminded that anything’s changed. Maybe make her a tea once we get back, queue up Netflix, and let her process.”

“So... the opposite of what you need.”

Bucky chuckled, thinking about how he felt after draining missions; how he was starving, how everything was too loud, how he couldn’t breathe until he and Steve were in bed with Steve halfway on top of him. “Basically.”

“Steve?” He said a few minutes later, as they made to stand. “Don’t coddle her. You know how she is. Give her her space and let her come to you.”

Steve smile wryly. “She sounds like a cat.”

Bucky chuckled. “I wouldn’t be surprised. If she’s not okay, back away. It takes time.”

“You sound like you have a lot of experience.”

He smiled apologetically. “You know those times, before I came back, where she’d disappear after missions for a few days?”

Steve stared at him as it clicked. “We’re discussing this later.” It was delivered in his Captain voice, and it was all Bucky could do not to sigh.

“Yeah, okay. But first? Don’t die.” He pressed a quick kiss to Steve’s lips then nudged him down the hatch. Time to demolish the last link to his and Natasha’s past.

“Ready?” He asked as she came up to him.

“Ready.” She sighed and hardened, and he nodded. She was ready for anything. And now, with new and old friends around him, Bucky was too.


	19. A Thousand Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas 2012 had been... an event, to say the least. 2013 and 2014 had been much the same. Then April 2015 came around, and Steve’s world was rocked to its foundation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of togina’s “For the Holidays”.... in May. I have no excuse other than the fact that I need fluff and also it was like barely 70° yesterday??? In Texas???? I’m very confused.
> 
> Title actually is _not_ from the Christina Perri song. It’s from the fic this is a continuation of. Steve told Clint “...three weeks or a thousand years, it doesn’t matter” when asked why he hadn’t opened a present. I wish I could link it here but GO READ TOGINA’S FIC ITS AWESOME AND THEYRE AN AMAZING AUTHOR!
> 
> Anyways. Enjoy!

Christmas 2012 had been... an event, to say the least. Steve knew what they were doing, knew they were trying to get him into the holiday spirit. He appreciated it, but how could he when the one person he wanted—the one person he needed—wasn’t there?

So he bit his pillow at night as the tears came.

Christmas 2013 was much the same. A bit more subdued, though that couldn’t be helped when Thor was off-world. The man just brought the spirit with him everywhere he went.

And spirits, Steve noted with a dry, detached humor, missing the god’s mead. He didn’t bite his pillow that night, but he didn’t sleep much, either.

Or at all, but who’s counting? Certainly not Steve. And certainly not Clint, who only barely turned away from the window when Steve emerged from the elevator. “We all have our ghosts.”

Steve had just nodded. They did indeed.

Christmas 2014 was, again, much the same, with a few noticeable differences.

Peggy was gone.

Becca was gone.

Peggy, one of the great loves of his life. One of the only people to truly see him for him.

Becca, who had practically been his little sister, who had gasped and held the tears in when Steve appeared on her doorstep with an apology ready on his lips. They had sat, spoken for hours, about everything and nothing, skirting around the one subject they both wanted to speak about but knew would be too painful.

He left with a smile and some of her soup in a Tupperware.

He had to ask Jarvis for a new pillow.

April 2015 came around and Steve’s world was rocked to its foundation. Here was a man who looked like Bucky, walked like Bucky, talked like Bucky.

A rose by any other name...

Steve had refused himself that line of thinking before it became too painful for him. _Focus on the task at hand. Get it done, then you can fall apart._

He didn’t make it. Fell apart not even halfway through, then a whole shitshow happened, ending with Fury somehow alive and Steve on a helicarrier, facing the man with his best friend’s face.

He repeated the same mantra, but history repeated itself—as history so often does—and Steve fell apart again.

He only hoped he hadn’t imagined the metal hand around his wrist as he fell into the water below.

He knew he hadn’t imagined it when he awakened in the hospital.

“Oh your left,” he’d murmured drowsily to Sam, then immediately conked out again.

Next time he woke up, he was a little more conversational. “It was him.”

“I understand it was physically him, but Steve, you gotta understand that mentally-”

“I fell into the river.” He matched Sam’s eyes. “Where did you find me?”

“Up the bank. Far up the bank. There were... drag marks. Torn, flattened grass. Footprints. But this doesn’t mean-”

“Did I ever tell you I’m bi?”

Sam blinked. “Come again?”

“Bi. Bisexual. I like men and women.” He looked down at his hands. “He never knew. Not to that extent. It’s hard to imagine he didn’t know something, though.”

“Well.” He didn’t have any words. Steve knew how that was. “Damn.”

“Yep.”

“You... get some rest. Heal. I’m gonna make a few calls.”

Steve smiled as he shut his eyes, and this one was real, or starting to be real. He could feel it. “Thanks, Sam. You’re a good friend.”

“I’m the _best_ friend,” Sam corrected, but Steve could hear the teasing grin.

Christmas 2015 was a whole other debacle.

“Steve, Steve, Steve, c’mon, just one-”

“No.”

“But look at it! Just one little-”

Steve couldn’t help—didn’t want to help—the smile as he turned to face the brunet. “No, Buck.”

Bucky frowned, then suddenly grinned. “Wait till you see what’s in the apartment.”

Steve just smiled and grabbed his hand before he could bounce too far out of reach. Bucky stilled at the contact, then looked at Steve’s face. “What?”

Steve just shook his head, unable to release the closed-lip smile he was wearing. “It’s just... really good to have you back, Buck.” He was proud of himself; his voice didn’t break.

Bucky just matched the smile and drew Steve closer, ending with his free hand up against Steve’s chest and Steve’s free hand around his hip. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He pecked Steve on the lips and murmured, “Not again. Never again.”

“Buck,” Steve whispered brokenly, and wrapped both arms around Bucky.

“I’m here,” he immediately answered, wrapping his own arms just as tightly around Steve. A sudden thought came to mind. “Babe,” he started cautiously, “what exactly did the team do last Christmas?”

“And the one before, and the one before?” He offered a shaky grin, more a self-deprecating smirk than anything. “Twenty-twelve, they found out why I wasn’t happy about Christmas. They found out on Christmas day. Thirteen and fourteen... not much. They tried to help. Did, in some cases, but it wasn’t what I really wanted.” He pressed a soft kiss to Bucky’s jaw, and the brunet melted.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck and looked at him seriously. “Ready to make this the best Christmas ever?”

“Hell yeah,” Steve said, his own smile worming it’s way onto his face. “Show me what’s in the apartment?”

Bucky grinned and twined their fingers together as he pulled Steve toward the common floor’s elevator. “Our floor, please, Jarvis,” Bucky said, and _god_ , Steve could get used to that. _Our_ floor.

He burst out laughing as soon as he stepped off the elevator. There was mistletoe _everywhere_. “Buck,” he tried between giggles. “You can’t hardly walk four feet without needing five different kisses.”

And if Steve reeled him in to demonstrate, well, Jarvis would never tell.

And if everyone got a little bit emotional when unwrapping Steve’s present to them—because first of all was Steve hadn’t _done_ presents in the past, had hardly accepted his own, and second of all was _Steve made this_ —Steve was willing to chalk it up to the spiked hot chocolate they’d been drinking all morning.

He smiled self-consciously as everyone stared at his sketches of them. His eyes got to Bucky, seated right next to him, last. This one was his favorite, not that he was biased or anything.

It was Bucky a few weeks ago, walking onto their mistletoe-decked floor, arms outstretched and grin wide and relaxed. “You didn’t-” his voice failed, and he swallowed and tried again. “You didn’t draw me... _before_.” He tugged his hair with his left hand as an example of what he meant.

Steve covered Bucky’s right hand with his own. “It’s been you, always, only you, for as long as I’ve known you, Buck. The outside might’ve changed some, but the inside? That’s exactly what I fell in love with. And that’s exactly the same.”

Bucky began to grin as he fished out his present for Steve. “I want another one next year. And the year after. And the year after.” He pressed the wrapped box into Steve’s chest. “Maybe this could help.”

Steve looked at him inquisitively, but unwrapped the box all the same. He gasped and grabbed the box with shaky hands once he saw what it was. “No,” he said, turning a disbelieving look to Bucky. “Buck, I know how expensive these are.” He looked at the box in his lap and traced the edge of the drawing tablet.

Bucky smiled and leaned against him. “Steve, meet Tony, billionaire—but mostly tech genius in this case—and Bucky, also somewhat rich.” He pressed a kiss to the closest place he could reach, Steve’s collarbone.

“I bought it, then brought it to Tony for modifications and improvements. It won’t explode, don’t worry.”

Steve just chuckled and tilted his head over onto Bucky’s. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

“Merry Christmas, Buck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it says what Bucky’s present is. Here’s the rest of the team.  
> Natasha: Halfway through a laugh, hand half covering her mouth and tears in her eyes. (Clint had done something stupid that day, as per usual for Clint.)  
> Clint: Pointing at someone off-screen, mouth open in a grin as he spoke. (If he remembered correctly, he was play-arguing with Tony.)  
> Tony: Arms crossed and smirking at the viewer. He was standing behind a workbench in the lab, and you could just barely see one of his suits in the background.  
> Bruce: Sitting in the reading nook with his book and tea, looking out over the city. He was barely smiling. (Bruce loved it and thought it was slightly more intimate than Steve had meant, but then again it could just be Bruce unwilling to share with people.)  
> Sam: On the couch, arms lazily spread across the back and legs crossed. He had much the same expression Clint’s picture did.  
> Thor was off-world—again—but his was of him sitting on the couch, arms crossed and smiling, Mjolnïr haphazardly leaning against the coffee table.


End file.
